Dead of the night - Poetry

Ridiculous screams of delights,
Risking the analysis of the mind.

Secretly steering the mind,
Shutting down as it may.

Picking on disturbing nuances,
On a disturbing level of thoughts.

Violence of the notes,
Deeply in denial of the thoughts.

Mentally unwell maybe,
Painting the room of insanity.

Deep dark secrets of the future,
Neutral through the path.

Ripping the screen of truth,
In half of the ring of lies.

Running down the middle,
It was but meant to be.

A Dream,
A thought,
In Hope
And in laughter.

In the morning rays of sun,
The prayers might run free.

Photo by Milind Ruparel on Unsplash