Stoned Insanity

It starts with the serenity of a flowing river,
the mind, floating calmly, through the soothing ether.
And the ears will not hear a thousand words,
save for the breeze and the chant of the birds.
The waters are not a stir, so the eyes will shut close,
and peaceful sleep will come, soon the chaos.
So the journey begins for sanity’s demise,
the currents will wake as the tides will rise.
And the spirit will sink against the furious waves,
under, it will suffocate, and for life it craves.
Still with eyes unopened it sees the illusions;
of monsters, ghosts and heavenly delusions.
As the soul tries to deny the unearthly sensation,
all the more it falls into helpless desperation.
And a hundred voices the roaring rapids will create,
that even with hands over ears the mind will hear its fate.
Its true that rivers never ever flow back,
and insanity is usually a one way track.
And if your feet chance to wade upon the timid waters,
because the sense of being stoned makes you feel better.
Consider if you’ll swim in this life of sin,
and of how you’ll control the madness from within.