Scribed Asylum by Aaron Ozee

Scribed Asylum

By: Aaron Ozee

NOTE: All Poems Are Based On True Events

ISBN: 9781304104045

Insane Refuge

Stricken

Closed into the confines of my room

Screams radiate throughout the hallway on the other side of my door

Violently echoing with extreme sonic

Blood curdling....

Smells of stagnant urine and pus arising from the floor up

Singeing my nostrils with every inhale I choose to take

Stinging by the gust

Lungs consumed with charred clusters of dust and hunger

Starving from the bottom of my stomach of common pleasures of world

Restricting my mind from owned bodily controls

Eliminating connection between my conscience and others....

Lingering emotions of suicide and disgust shroud my thoughts from all that is

sustainable

Severed from trust, slaughtered by emotion, killed by certainty

The assurance of death

The confirmed truth of a near grim experience covers my soul

Wrapping it within rusted barbed wire and tight infected nylons

Bloodying the beating muscles strapped in my chest

Retreating breath

Fading gasps

Evaporating life...

Transitioning from easily handled placing

To the barred solitude of unfamiliarity

Constructing a barrier between serene and sanity

My being, my position, my world

I...am losing

For now and forever do I feel trapped

Stationed here

In this place

In this spot

I remain

In

The Mental Maelstrom.

Nightly Recollections

Sleepless era

The prohibition of rest

For though....

Restlessness is not on my side

Nor is it against me

For it is always there.

Cuddled up in the darkened abyss of night

Silently waiting in the corner of my quarters

Motionless

Watching me by the second

Just wondering towards what I will decide to do next

Will I end my life?

Will I so choose to corrode my reasoning with temperaments?

To what will be my proceedings?

For scrutiny is its specialty.

It's duty is not to attack

Not to deceive

Not to consume

Not to breathe

But....

To see.

Recording all of my actions by the quality and meaning

For it hoards them.

Puts them into a mental album of twisted realities where it recollects on each

specific accounts that had been carried out by my own conscious decisions

Restlessness does not care to whether I sleep or not

It does not experience pain, sadness, or corruption

Those

Do not concern it.

What it doesn't do, are the things that inevitably frighten me.

For the time spent and the time regretted spent in the holdings of higher help

The supervision of individuals who wish to revise your regular self

To contradict your odious actions and implant greater means into your mind

That

I can bear.

It does not worry me.

For there is a time and place for everything

A spot where all can fit right

And so.....

There just happens to be a time unique such as one.

A moment within the passing of day where all good is restrained

Where all rescue is mutilated

Where all hope is lost.....

Mental downfall is not inflicted by events that develop in light

For the true chaos, the true insanity

Is what happens in what we all call........the night.

Satanic Control

Solitude

Sealed silently

Concreted walls figured at every corner

Blocking all vision from the chamber on

Light is set at a minimal

Only a single candle has been placed

Flame is steadily dousing

Shivered flows of air burst from crevices

Swamping the ground in cooled consumption

My skin bumps

Blistering my surface in frosted chill

Blackening the tone of my flesh

Ridding the existence of comfort

The toppling of faith has ignited

Sparking the fuse of defined fate

Predicting my final

Surprised end

Evident sentence

Feelings do not derive from enclosure

But from something else

From a choice of driven consent

A place aligned for specific purpose

An area of silence

An area of mystery

An area of unknown

My mind.

Copyright 2013 - All Rights Reserved.

The preview of the book, Scribed Asylum, was licensed by Ozee Holdings.