A Celestial Mind- Gift or Curse?

Oh world, why have you forsaken me in such a cruel way,

such that even when I'm in recluse, alone with my thoughts within my mind,

pandemonium ensues and refuge I never can seem to find?

For the mind comes from the divine, or so I've been told,

borrowed from an ethereal being to mix into the human mold.

In other words, the mind and all it entails do not pertain to this world, and as

such, naturally, chaos will unfold,

as all my being becomes filled with much more than I can ever stand to hold.

What now can I do to alleviate myself from this before I inevitably suffocate?

I try to speak but my thoughts fly past,

leaving the words to dissipitate from my throat,

destined to be left eternally unspoken.

It is then that I strike a chord, as I recall both that actions speak louder than words,

as well as that the pen is mightier than the sword.

So with pen in hand I stab at thee my cruel, celestial mind,

thrusting violently as crimson red blood spews upon these, the pages of my life.

As the last of my bloody thoughts empty from my mind,

I feel at peace from deep within my core.

And though these trials I have and will repeat,

I recall a man who through his bird did speak,

so that word in an empty promise I now repeat,

until it is time to face these trials once more,

nevermore.