Insanity.

Even creative minds can sucumb to rot and decay after a day of boredom, fear and thought.

[b]Insanity – a slow remorse,
Turns somehow favourable nigh,
At first sight even somewhat coarse,
Though everlasting till I die...

When hopes are drowned and thoughts deformed,
With laughter’s sounds the time adorned...

It certainly is far from pain,
And yet more agony than rain,
Of fire, flames and ashes brings,
Oh, it uncovers many things.

Like genius of art or tale,
Whilst drinking wine or even ale,
And even then when all is lost,
The hope lives on and at a cost...

For faith survives and brings more pain,
It seems I am no longer sane...

this probably goes in artist corner