poem inspired by nevermore :]
All mad women die twice,
At least twice.
Then, when did you go mad?
How many times have you died, love?
You can try to hide it
But they will all know.
A tiny slip, tiny crack;
That will be all it takes.
It will be enough for them to find out.
Burn the witch at the stake!
She’s gone mad with grief,
Stab her now before it’s too late!
You will join all the deranged writers,
It’s a destiny that cannot be avoided
Brilliance always comes at a price.
Try to tell yourself you are different,
That you will never lose sight of yourself
But you are not the first to say that.
It was obvious you were doomed from the start,
Have you ever heard of a sane artist?
You can’t escape this asylum we call our mind.
Do you even recall the last time you heard silence?
Can you tell what is real anymore, darling?
Nevermore will you be without the voices,
Too distracted by your so-called visions.
I am afraid it is too late for you now.
For if there were still hope for you,
You would not be speaking to me now.
After all, I am you as you are me,
Because what am I, if not mad?