Psychosis, the paranoia of intense scrutiny

Every man a spy, every place a trap

Adding locks to a door of the mind, only to hear

The knob turning and fear

Flooding forth and bringing with it

Cold sweats and labored breathing once again.

An impregnable maze assembled

Frantically

One night, stretching into timeless void

Great ideas that would stand the test of time

A week later, returned to cryptic signs

Incomprehensible. Was this me?

Conjured as a shade, a joker, a

Mummers farce with bells and painted faces?

The paranoid have enemies, this is true

But do they fade

Dissolve

Turn into a river of sand pouring from

Our clenched fist?

Our existential threats rise and fall

And one day we will confront them

But shadows are not soldiers,

And they leave no mark for others to see

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