My waking mind is as a river,

its visage never could deliver,

how much depth and darkness lies beneath the surface.

The waters rise, and ebb, and fall,

but one day their flow shall stall,

and I shall find my resting place within the water

all the loud yet futile calls,

made by friends at castle walls,

never seem to have the strength to truly reach me.

I cannot open up the gate,

so for now they can but wait,

and continue to half-heartedly beseech me.

They say it will get better,

but they have not truly met her,

the madness who resides within the water.

Originally posted on Quora and Tumblr.


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