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What if it finally Happens,
The moment dreaded by the smallest Faction,
TIPPING POINT.
What if time intuitively Hastens,
And the scales tip to an improper Fraction,
PSYCHOTIC BREAK.
Laced with streaks of humor, perfect Zombies,
They don't scream, they don't cry, perfect Creatures,
In a rigged game with gods, unlucky Cronies,
Where dreams are fateless and epiphanies, framed Gestures.
We put up asylums for those with broken Minds,
To dress their wounds whereas our scars run Deep,
When delirium ascends, she won't treat us so Kind,
With a gentle nudge will go tumbling into the Deep.
Around...