Inside
a Tormented Mind
I
awoke to the sound of a silent scream from a distant dream,
Voices
of the dead echoing through my head.
What
had I been, and what had I seen?
What
did I do, and who did I do it to?
Feelings
of guilt felt as if they were inbuilt,
Like
this invisible chain suffocating my brain.
Why
this madness? Why this pain?
Why
did I feel like I was going insane?
Who
were my victims, and was I unjust?
Did
I do it for vengeance, or was it for lust?
Were
these sins fresh as morning dew, or old as ancient dust?
Discovery
would be painful, but find out I must.
I
asked the Police, but that didn’t work -
They
just looked at me as if I was completely berserk.
I
looked in the library for a clue or a hint -
There
was no ray of enlightenment there, not even a glint.
I
tried asking everyone that I called a friend;
They
said it was too long since I’d seen my CPN.
They
all think I’m mad, that my guilt is illusionary -
They
think my mind’s gone, my memories delusionary.
But
I know the truth, voices in my head told me I have to pay
For
the evil I’ve done, but what evil they won’t say.
I
just have to go on searching, one day my answer I’ll find…
And
then they won’t think that I’m out of my mind.
I’m
on medication now, I think they call it Depot.
The
voices have gone away, but the dreams still persist.
Now
I think I’m insane, but they think I’m ill…
Their
arguments seem persuasive, but sometimes I resist.
This
feeling of guilt is too real not to be true,
Isn’t
it?
I
wonder.
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