Reflections on Lost Time

Psychic pain consumes my brain
Haunting caustic always the same
Rhythms change but grey remains
The color cloaking blood and veins

Walking wounded I’m ashamed
Of all the things I’ve done in vain
Of all the promise laid to waste
Of foolish dreams I wish erased

Flying high I fell apart
Lost my anchor in the dark
I played my cards fast and hard
Went too far and now I’m scarred

Desperate for motivation
I need to break my isolation
To rid myself of the sensation
Of imprisonment in my basement

Psychic pain forces change
Blood moves again through crippled veins
Inspiration flows from pain
Creative flow reclaims my brain