My Ties

My spouse has run away,
he's flying down the street as if driven by a maniac of an unseen car.

The trees have beome a blurr,
they are but lines of emerald against the sea of a black sky.

He keeps running,
does he know where he's going?

Stopping is not even an option,
he must be running to keep sane.

But it's the very thing he's running from that warms him and gives him comfort

How will he know where he is when his eyes are darting too fast for his brain?

Wellness is but a mystery that the mind will never find,
it's as if we're blind-folded, strapped to an outsider's chair.

There is no way to understand the unseen,
nor will we ever be able to obtain the throughts of one who judges that thoroughly so.

Let us not be on the backs of misery sky-rocketing into a black hole of defeat.
Let us always be one with the minds that we know,
flying on the backs of a raven who knows where he belongs.

Because to deny ourselves we deny the existance of all mankind,
and that is truly foolish enough of itsself.