[asylum]

and as the hole in my soul gleams,
a whole stream flows by each path I’ve climbed.
Around the highest trees, throughout scenes adorned with lily pads,
frogs are ribbiting, like they’re really glad.. the world’s as dim as it is,
where ancient evergreens form the inside of a surreal abyss.
My hollow truth follows suit, between gifts so often overlooked,
after living in starless skies,
our own lies drive our scarred minds past points we’ve so often took,
who am I to believe those who’ve deceived me all along?
Once I thought I was wrong.. now every chance I had is gone.
If I’d have climbed the highest tree and remained strong,
the lake would’ve remained lost in the blackness between.
Now the darkness is me.
I see angels playing harps in the trees..
Could’ve begged them to serenade me, if God had forgave me,
but I’m trapped in the limbo between,
inside the chirps of crickets and frogs in an endless sea of my disease