Sick-ness
A soaring spirit in a fragile frame; Brittle but yet so hard to tame. It wails & squeals & pricks me within This raging Minotaur yearns escape. Tied to me? Or am I to it? The eternal question that fails to tire. Just stay civil, try being benign, and Just don't torture up till my pyre. The sages tried with all their might; The learned with their rational ways. The ignorant me just pleads on my knees. But all in vain. All in vain. There's no agony worse than the self Nor any joy if not for it. Hard to treat them just as equal When tears don't cease to touch the soil. What is soul but just a thought? And what is thought but the soul? Why is there a battle between And why care if there'd be victory! Write, you will, with all your will, for That's just a sane thing to do. But tell me how to pin this down This monster in disguise within.