Symphonies of Thought

How long,
how long.

Symphonies of thoughts
crashing like a thousand waves,
inside my skull,
and I hear them scream behind my eyes.

Longing for freedom,
to spring destruction where they lay.
My words will not inspire.
I have no greater cause,
no drive or dreams.

I wear a blindfold of my own design,
a handmade pair of rose glasses.
I turn my tired eyes towards the sun,
to burn away
the image of this wretched world.

I want to scream and
smash
and destroy,
until nothing remains
but my echo,
cursing the stars
for being so pure.

Such reckless abandon cannot be sustained,
how long before the elaborate farce is revealed,
before my tongue cannot be held.

My words will only divide.