Raving mad men in the hills
mayhaps at times they do need pills?
The loneliness that drives them mad
makes me feel a little sad.
Old friends I’ve known many a year
but now, at times, I shed a tear.
Their hearts are pure, brain’s a mess
companionship they now have less.
Too much time a mind alone;
confusion has the silence sown.
While wisdom comes from time to think
into the mire they also sink.
I think the search for what is ‘real’
may be for some their final seal;
those whose Journey nears its end
and need this final step to send
their mind and heart to some place clear.
For many though it is a snare;
a trap to hold them deep in there.
Deep in that place within their mind
where what they’ve learned is all they find
and all their wisdom twists and turns
until each synapse slowly burns.
Today the shell, a burned out mess
finds real wisdom less and less.
And, in the darkness one voice screams;
what once was wisdom, now lost dreams.