A Dream of Insanity
This is Poem Two of the Three that make up my Dream Poetry. These all came to me in various classes that I had fallen asleep in. They attest to how hard I was working back then. This was a History class of some sort and the Professor was talking about how those with mental health challenges were institutionalized and experimented on. You will notice it is a visual poem as well, though this was unintentional. One of my good friends actually pointed it out when she read it and I was *shocked*.
A Dream of Insanity
What can I say about the doctor of Waverly Hills?
Chaos in his mind, and death in his heart.
He dresses the part by day, another by night.
What can I speak, about that beautiful hell atop those salt-painted cliffs?
Solitary and alone it sits, looking out across a bloody shore of bodies.
The black, and cold ocean, its only friend.
What can I say about its victims?
We scream in silence,
The oppressive ringing of metal against metal consumes us.
Is this hell? We ask the ink, as the doctor sews us shut.
The ink replies in forgotten blood spots and drug-induced hallucination
Death is only a feeling. It tells us before he takes us away.
I close my eye's, hoping the light would returns from this dream of knives,
it dies.
Only to wake another night.
Where does he put us? They all ask.
In the coarse and wet sand, the grains whisper as they fill our lungs.
Six feet down, Doctor makes us dig, smiling his twisted smile.
What happens after? I ask him through sewn and cracked lips,
...He pulls the rope tight around my neck.
It chokes the light, he replies, sinister and calm.
Watching it fade from our eyes.
I stop struggling as he laughs.
You never leave Waverly Hills; he whispers in my ear.
Darkness, where does the soul go when shackled? I ask.
Nowhere! they scream at these broken walls.
Its crimes lost to time.
Help us! We cry to passerby.
Why don't they answer, Darkness?
Because I own you, it replies.
We scream its silent scream.
But the gaping maw consumes the light, repeating evermore
About the Creator
Nicholas R Yang
An Archaeologist and aspiring Doctor, I am a part-time writer from the East Coast of Canada. Written multiple plays, poems, and short stories. Currently has a single published work, available through Amazon Canada. "Musings From The Other"
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