I wrote the poem in the screen shot like 10 years ago….but here goes another!

Behold the mad man who rants, from which ill muse doth my inspiration cometh, to pour out as ink staining lines with a sonnet.

Witnessing anger onto paper cut from ancient trees now long deceased. Stolen homes from a jungle full of birds and wild bees.

Tell me, do you hear voices too when your locked away in your room. Or am I alone in this madness, this road to my tomb.

And that road to my tomb quite haunting yet jolly, full of life’s lessons now learned, earned achievements and proud folly.

And a love shared so deeply like the floors of the oceans, though truly I am worthy of such beautiful devotion.

My sweet immortal beloved, who’s touch is beyond any feeling, who’s tantalizing kiss floats me above heaven’s ceilings.

Where I find myself wandering lost amongst those poets of old. To whom the Titans and Gods entrusted secret truths to be told.

Perhaps I am them and they are I all the same, or I’m still locked away in my room alone, going insane.