My Asylum

Roaming earth With no feeling The cries that sing Longing roads Far away shadows Running from sadness Making songs with thoughts Thoughts that take away the past Thoughts that eliminate the reasons The asylum brings me to life The quiet but loud emotions that run through your temple of streams The secrets and memories buried by despair Longing to love Dreams broken into pieces Yet that asylum drifted you into consciousness As you realize your state of being Whether with the coherent words put on paper Or artistic blood that run through your fingers Or as you sit with knees so high like a child ready to cry You are sane You are normal You are yourself As you think long about your stages Look to your web of memories Recollecting the paintings of non erasable momments You have shared Think to the future in which that melody forces you to imagine What would I do without this? The place that secures me with warmth and shines with utter hopfulness Although the book is my utensil, the asylum is my  recovery