Tuesday, June 25

PARANOIA.

Then the paranoia strikes
It turns me against all my likes
My thoughts seem surrounded by bleak dykes
All my fears run in, in extreme hikes

Am I scared of them?
Can I stop them before they stem?

I remain answerless
I sit stateless

My surroundings start to blur
The demons begin to slur

My body, soul and mind tremble
As my phobias begin to assemble
What do I start to resemble?
An apparition. I think I’m going to tumble

Down the trap laid by my mind
I need a quietus - the only way to unwind.

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