Insanity

Insanity by T. J. Shemaly

In the heights of my imagination
deep within the heart of my core
I know among the many a tribulation
in the head that was withered and sore
With my swinging thought and temptation
and the life that had gone and wore
One day I shall receive a revelation
of peace, and then shall I dream no more

The speech O ladies and gentlemen
of the valour names and the nobility
Is of the utmost heaviness of a burden
and an image behind the glass of reality
Allowed with its unmercifulness to widen
and its words set a comparison to insanity
Who would understand my thoughtful garden
or who shall save it from the abyssal eternity?

Clink the cups O noble ones of height
what a poor man shall do under the chairs
The blue blood runs in the veins of might
and the rest to the lowest of the lairs
Yet, who hears the last of the laughters might
laugh along in the graves or crying heirs
Time shall tell my friend who so might
raise up on the crown, and to the low pitch, compares