They speak, and they speak on,
My turn finally arrives, and disappears
The heart aches, searching wild for lost opportunity
asking of the guilt non-existent, which they
think does exist – again – the turn to reply disappears
Annoyed, irritated, unsatisfied after a broken meal,
I ask them why and they reply with sneer and taunt,
rejecting claim, once again – my turn disappears
Now the veins I feel, I feel that they constrict
So I try to rekindle the candle against a winter storm
But winters are never warm, a cold reply fits
They ask me to abandon, and move away
‘you have no taste for this, no mind and no wit’
I ask them why – their reply disappears, and in turn
ends my turn – the clash ends before it has time to groom
Now, midst lost claim and time gone, I asked myself
Why? How? What? Where? When?
To all, I could not find another story but just one
and that one was all the reason of my plight
the plight bearing enigma, horror and damnation
The argument began – vicariously I re-imagined,
between two friends, one sane and one ‘insane’
heaping muck, tossing down the spirit
but not one who was expected of such – the crown
rested on a the sane, the shame he refused to own
Self righteous, a man or an axiom, still uncertain
however losing, cursing and rejecting
the calm ‘insane’, who clamored for righteous explanation
when none of it came – what to do now?
dismiss, reject and burn the inner man – the insane
And so a path finally forged, the crucifying purpose
of an ill man, killing the insane, killing what we used to call
the people who told the church to accept that Earth is not flat
but truth is hard to take, when power, reputation and self is on the stake
bravery vaporizes, and the insane has to die
Why? How? What? Where? When?
It happened, and it happened with no one to stop
And today, the insane yet lives, no, he hides instead
hides behind not a veil, but a trap,
a trap that reiterates – your turn has disappeared.