Waters said there was a door when I came in,
been here too long, I’m stuck, locked within.
The pressure is mounting this can’t be good,
This wall wasn’t build out of paper or wood,
Its construction was perfect, from mason and brick,
The darkness is looming, this might make me sick,
Someone once told me whats seen in mind’s eye
Is unsurpassed in its greatness, and beauty can’t lie.
Well, here I am sitting, with all my gears spinning
Creating new creatures all hell-bent, and winning,
I’m willing to bet that “someone” hasn’t seen creatures like these
Or else, they wouldn’t be spreading their deceit and disease.
From Dante’s cantos, to the angels that sing,
Every single demon has a present to bring,
So I unwrap the presents presented to me,
Secretly hoping to find the lost key.
The time is arriving,  and I’ve had enough
Where is the door that’s hidden and rough.
The pressure is mounting, the visions I see
Ignore negotiations, they don’t hear my plea
I am not certain which will fall first,
The walls that surround me or my mind which is cursed?
They say madness breeds madness, and never brings light
Fighting madness with madness is a loosing fight.
Hence I sit here in the prison of my own making,
wondering if from this torrent I’m waking.
Exploring my mind, and cursing illusion,
Perpetuating a constant state of confusion,
It ain’t hard to find illusion when you are living in a memory
But can my illusion, fraught with confusion, truly set me free?

One can certainly hope.