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.