You chase sanity
With wild ardor
Like horses in a plain
Trying to tame the thoughts
Running rapidly
But they just move too fast
And the moment your hand brushes
Them, they escape your grasp
Empty handed
And reprimanded by present phantoms
And the ghosts of your past
That handed you the rope
To either catch those dreams
Or hang yourself
But the chase has driven you mad
You freak of nature
Out of control
Out of the loop
A desperate soul awaiting
The return of what you had
But the dust bowls have swallowed
All you were in spite
The Western hemisphere of your conscious
Is now a desert for you
Insanity has eaten you
Alive.