Scream into the night,
my agony, my plight.
With all my might, 
I pray,

I beg the lord 
to take the pain away, 
erase the mistake 
that is my brain.
Infectious.
Awkward.
Wayward.
Onward.

Climbing the walls 
inside my mind,
a scrambling mist,
the basement of my soul, 
my hollow void.

Out of time, out of mind 
every path a one way street. 
Defeat leads me on,  
a dead end, 
around the bend,  

hopeless, 
full of empty sorrow, 
my wayward mind 
talks in riddles,
disordered 
broken thought patterns. 

Poverty of speech 
renders me speechless.
 

©JMCole