Trapped in one's mind.

Trapped in one's mind.

The heavy door is locked from deep within,
Constructed out of doubt and nervous skin.
There are no windows here to catch the light,
Just corridors of long and hollow night.

A thousand voices whisper in the hall,
Yet silence is the master of it all.
The walls are lined with mirrors, cold and vast,
Reflecting only ghosts of shadows past.

The pendulum of thought begins to swing,
A rhythmic, sharp, and solitary thing.
It carves a groove into the mental floor,
Until the self can recognize no more.

What is a world beyond this vaulted skull?
The edges of the reach have grown so dull.
I touch the glass and feel the thickness there—
A universe confined in freezing air.

No key to turn, no handle left to pull,
The cup of consciousness is brimming full
With fears that bloom like static in the dark,
Without a single flame to strike a spark.

I am the architect, the cell, the stone,
The monarch of a kingdom left alone.
Trapped in the orbit of a single mind,
Where all that’s lost is all I’ll ever find.