What is this malaise,
that awakens with each yawning day.
Quite the tortured mystery,
to have a mind that seems intent on being rid of me.
Staring at shapes of shadows,
creating fables with a brain that’s addled
With a nameless affliction.
Kingdoms have lived and died,
with only I baring witness to their fall and rise.
Scattered noon sunlight sneaks,
between dusty blinds and sets aflame the world on my walls.
It is here that I feel,
screams of terror and the joys of triumph.
The delicacy of a daydream.
A place for me.