"Men of broader intellect know that there is no sharp distinction betwixt the real and the unreal; that all things appear as they do only by virtue of the delicate individual physical and mental media through which we are made conscious of them; but the prosaic materialism of the majority condemns as madness the flashes of supersight which penetrate the common veil of obvious empricism" - H.P. Lovecraft - The Tomb

And so it all came
In one twist of fate
And to my horror it
Never ceased
Nor flew away to my faith
In God

And the way you regard my sanity
The way you poison me with your version
of reality
Pathetic should be less
and you continue to befoul me
While all I do is bless... you
condemn my mental case,
when you, blind, alone have done
this to a poor tormented mind
(my visions enclosed in this place)
now beyond saviour from any part,
destined to always return at the edge
of the abyss and to always
jump to its demise...

the opening was too great
the small cleft was yet too large
and it gripped my, back then,
dozed off human mind
to turn my sentience to
nothing but a masquerade of
contradictory feelings

I expect not of the understanding
and you should not attempt to
experience my perceptions

my humble destination may be the same
as yours eventually, but i accepted an invitation
to death tomorrow at dusk,
when the cleft will have devoured me

alternatives but are no more
and the echoes are faded before
they were even heard

i ceased trying to find the remedy
nor would let anyone help me
fight my lack of sanity,

i'll go to rest now