Story Teller

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I look around hoping to hear those voices again.
I know they come from within but pretending it's someone else had always felt more sane
And now, for no reason, my usually noisy head, decides to keep shut
I know it's not calm and I can't get what's it's playing at with my heart
I dig a hole in my mind and take a telescope with me, if I can't see the stars I might as well get a better view of the dirt.
Nothing still, nothing else, nothing less or more than the wicked silence within
I see the writings on the wall, they seem strange to me but I know I wrote them all.
I'm chained down by this demented quietness in me, but my mind wonders about untamed.
I think I'm looking for something in my head, I think I know what it is, I'm just not sure I can think right now.
Story of my life, is the story for the gods, after eons with nothing to do, why not play a game with the mortals soul.
They play strange music in my head, or my heart or my soul or my mind, I'm not sure which is which or how good these gods are.
They prance me about, my very mind wonders about my mind, it's entertaining to them but drives me insane
But here I am still looking around the walls about, waiting to hear those voices again
As it is, pretending to be sane by looking around for the voices from within only helps prove how insane I've become.

Today's Chronicle Entry - #StoryTeller
Scott C. Eneje.

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