Trebuchet...

A stones throw away from relief,

The deafening sound of relentless sleep,

Under the boulder the trebuchet has yet to sling,

Rests my wrists and the sight stings,

Societies castle remains unscathed,

The arm of brittle wood can’t launch this mind from self-disdain,

Scorched by the sands from the garden of zen,

When the fire catches it gets quickly stamped out again,

Soul takers leave behind a loud and loutish mind,

I suppose this is Schizophrenia redefined.