PRISONER OF TIME 1 © 2007

The thought in constant search,

Tired, it sweats in its bitterness,

At times it finds nothing, lost in fortune,

While the door becomes a display,

Under the gaze of my madness.

It wanders, aimless, in mental mazes,

Seeks answers, but only finds signs,

And in the showcase of the mind, chaos is reflected,

Where reason shatters, and logic falls apart.

Madness lurks, in the corner of my sight,

Whispering secrets, in its strange song,

And I, trapped in the cycle, continue to search,

Even though the door is open, not knowing if I’ll enter.

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