Fragments of Madness
Torn between the fabric of inner space and lost time--
I sift through fragments of madness to start a new rhyme.
Playing with the darkness thru a reflective black shard--
The deck starts a new game now, without its high card.
The inflictive dagger falls silent, but the wars must still rage--
The liquid in my veins darker than the ink embedding this page.
A futile balancing act on this glimmering razor's edge--
As I numbly fumble along on this most precarious ledge.
The slightest falter turns a laser sharp finish the color of rust--
Those things that once were, become as pale wind unto dust.
Just because they can't see, doesn't make them blind--
But as much a state of existence as a state of mind.
In the blink of an eye, whether you see the other side or not--
It's too late when you realize you're standing in the wrong spot.
The serenity of true madness, not readily understood by most--
I embrace it with eagerness, I've had much practice as its host.
They say every evil thing in this world has its own proper plAce......
So... Is it true that I mean you no harm? ....Hi, my name is Ace.....