THE COLOUR OF MADNESS
A Blog About Living with Mental Illness
Crumble
Nothing seems to matter anymore,
all our words have gone to waste.
I’m still chained up by our shadow’s law,
still shackled by this face.
As the walls around our prison crumble,
and the outside world comes flooding in.
hollow memories of voices rumble,
cutting daggers through our skin.
Kaleidoscope scenes haunt the weary eyes
of revolutionaries on the brink.
Seems I’ve been dreaming here for decades,
though I never slept a wink.
My fractured mind’s fought too many wars,
& I don’t know how much more that it can take.
Only writing secrets behind closed doors heals, as my heart begins to break.
When the ghosts of tomorrow’s past arise
to claim their uncollected thoughts,
Nobody waits and nobody tries
to learn the lessons nobody wants taught.
But as the photographs fade so do the memories die,
of the great battles somebody else once fought.
And justice was just a word they used to disguise,
a system that sold us short.
They’ll whisper secrets we should really keep,until no more will dare confide.
Just to let the strangers and the showmen weep, for an unknown soldiers bride.
So I’ll let us go now off to sleep,
we’ll float away in a crimson tide.
Because the price of treason won’t come cheap, the house smells of greed and lies.
Now when your sun sets for it’s final time,
you’ll still have your day in court.
But as anger burns inside our soulless eyes,
now your judges can’t be bought.
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THE COLOUR OF MADNESS 
and standing tall upon this debris hill a person meek and small,
a beacon of hope once held bright with might doth see,
for yous to me are burning through the long legacy of deceit,
be strong, these Colours I do see and wait, upon this dereliction your phoenix child awakes…
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