And what about my fuckin' hand!!! he screams,
-- a man who generally never swears --
but now, all bets are off, in these extremes
of strange hallucination that impairs
the sense of social consciousness and calm.
It's all been much too much for him -- a fact
that now seems obvious. A bitter balm
is madness. Fantasy is left intact
while reason takes the road less trod upon
and disappears to regions not yet mapped.
In madness is the soul soon woebegone;
in melancholy is the spirit trapped --
between a parody of happiness,
and fury that the self is powerless.
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