• Accusing screams
    Echo menacingly
    Through corridors,
    Colored colorless
    And into rooms,
    With padded walls
    And bitter occupants.

    Voices tell of grief,
    Of a vengeance
    That cannot be
    And burning hatred
    As hot as the fire
    Of the flames of hell.

    Silence conquers all
    Mocking footsteps
    And echoing cries,
    Before they begin.
    Again and again.

    A vicious circle
    Of troubled minds
    And murky sorrow.
    Grieving for nobody,
    For only their souls
    Forever missing
    In their minds depth.

    Inside that dark mind
    There is real beauty.
    Sweet music begins
    To play ever so softly,
    Violins weave magic
    While flutes bond
    With twinkling bells.

    The rhythm swaying
    Like a lithe dancer,
    Swirling with grace.
    The pace increasing.

    Everything stops.
    Beauty doesn’t last,
    It is a misfortune
    That sanity does.