Echoes of madness

The sounds of madness that echo in ones mind

There is an emptiness that hangs over me
it sucks me in, drawing me near
with promises of lucidity, it reaches in hand
offering sweet suckle from it's bosom

My feet slip slowly out from under me
away into the darkness that smothers
unexplainable ache tangles with my awareness
pulling me deeper into the depths of isolation

I feel a thousand eyes bearing down on me
watching my every calculated move
hidden in the blackest of darkness
in every corner, in every crevice.

With sharp unrelenting teeth
they gnaw at my tired mind
stripping away the marrow of sanity
leaving me exposed and vulnerable.

Oh how the echoes of madness
beat like thundering fluttered wings
in every footstep, in every voice
my demise lays in patient wait.

I wrestle with sullen umbrage
flailing fiercely at abstruse images
created in the insecurities
of a doubting, and fearful mind.

In fractured mirrors I see forms
dressed in poisonous lies
spilling out unwelcome truth
unaccepted in this fragile state.

My heart pounds heavy in my chest
shadows stretching out, reaching forth
whispers of madness, calling
echo out in the darkness, it's only me.

The presence of light
pricks through the darkness
long, drawn out it flickers ever so small
doing little to chase away this twisted reality.

With hands I reach forth
clawing at the imagined wall that confine me
gnashing teeth chew on fingertips
bloodied in my attempt to escape.

my mind spirals downward
cascading uncontrolled into a thick fog
accepting my weakness, drawing me close
offering the sweet suckle of it's bosom.

Oh how the echos of madness
beat heavy in a reverberating silence
weightless on every crooked smile
ensnared on every winking eye.

Reviews

[.]

. wow ... that's a pretty spectacular piece of poetry ... an intense and comprehensive journey into the realm of something we can all relate to ... on a lighter note ... an uncle of mine was once sent to a loony bin (long story) ... and he escaped from there by posing as a doctor ... he found a lab coat lying around ... wore it ... and walked out confidently ... out of the main entrance ... no one questioned his sanity after that ...

[James William Dyer]

"weightless on every crooked smile", that's a nice line. Enjoyed the poem. It felt a little long, but I enjoyed reading it.

[frivolous treasures]

Marvelous, intense, emotional. This is quite a fantastic read (I went ahead and did myself a favor, and read it twice more...)
Your first stanza just sucked me right in, down to the last word...
Very nice, keep it up!

[?]

Powerful and intense piece...while reading this I felt as though I was reading..hearing someone tell me of a nightmare they just had. Or felt as though I was the one having the nightmare and I wanted to wake up out of it..I tried...I couldnt...very intense piece..and wonderful discriptions brought the imagery to life. Amazing

[Valentine]

Different...in its own way scarry and creepy..made me thankful it is not my mind playing these tricks on my soul..Valentine

[nicolo]

"it's bosom" Grammar typo. it is "its" , This is a great display of neurotic poetry. Honestly, you brought into that world of yours with the way you wrote this crazy piece of art. Great pleasure for me to read this. Not the usual poetry.

[Audrey Howitt]

I guess I think of all mental health as a continuum that we all slide around on. Some days we are at one point on the continuum; other days may see us on a far different point. So, for me, madness or some form of it, is a possible point on the continuum--I am not sure what would be needed to push me to that point. I was struck by how small the light in your piece was in comparison to the size of the madness--but I think that is probably the reality --so very well written---and with real empathy--

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Sometimes I feel like I've been drawn to madness...love the imagery...

[VelvetRosetta]

Madness, its so easy to sink into as it cascades...you write about it in a way one would believe you have been there, few of us have experienced with madness, it seems to have its dark and tantalizing side to it. But as I say those who are sane tend to be boring. Most creative writers have been known to be or have had some sort of dementia.

I love these sorts of writings, you penned it well.

If you have not already done so, I say read this, it has interesting info. on the subject.

http://neuroticpoets.com/

[An owl on the moon]

Powerful, dark, and overwhelming in its mindful examination... How madness can wrap one like the wind, piercing so deep into the soul and laying all things bare. Amazing poem.

This is such a pearl of poetry. I see to many to write all in once, these words, of a sick person, wich is in doubt, you captivate, with lies, mirrors, self knowledge, pieces of truth? provoking ways, and hidden facts. It makes me wonder, if it was real or not, however it's no need to answer on that. Let it be in the middle... but yes, what a perfect almost " One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest " feeling ;) very intriguing! Lovely work.