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Worry is a misuse of imagination |
An Ode to Overthinking and Insomnia A mind is a powerful weapon, the sharpest you will own, Slaying muscle, sinew, it can cut you to the bone With war wounds self inflicted, upon the deepest parts Souls that sing conflicted, in harmony with hearts Hearts that won't stop beating, despite the mind's dark cries 'midst versions of what might be, conjecture, truths and lies An ambush in the darkness, grapes envied, vines of wrath We should thank it for it's input, and take the unworn path The paths that lie less travelled, for reasons left unknown In light, our lies unravel, in dark, our truths are shown Such walkways build our courage, finding footing, gaining pace, in spaces we might flourish... They help us find our place Our place amidst the darkness, tested strong and true, with faces when it's starless, to guide the real you A star gone supernova, in the dark, without a sound, as waves keep crashing over, a long way down... a long way round A subject in a mindscape, collective are our doubts So traitorous, the mind skates, to faces we're without Possessions which we can't possess, despite an aching need Pretending we could care less, despite the heart's slow bleed for a mind's a potent weapon, with little reason, rhyme, untempered by a backbone … it wins most everytime |