Sanity blows away like dandelions in the wind.
I try to cling on, but it’s all just loose threads.
This life is mine, I’ve got to grasp on to it,
yet it’s nothing tangible to hold.
There’s no visible shine,
no life to my eyes,
this is the end.
All these answers never to be known
form questions and a new fate is born.
Creation, relaxation, even meditation
point me in no new directions.
The more soul-searching I try,
the less I seem to find,
this is the end.
A vague blur will wander for eternity
searching for that one peace and serenity.
I travel to the far reaches of my mind,
but I can find no way out.
I stand at the edge of everything,
my legs are poised to spring,
and this is the end.
Author notes
Self-explanatory.
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