The Scarlet Angel had been watching
Listening to my utterly sick thoughts
unspoken but fathomed by my daemons
Now I would stalk the synapses and
catching grip of a sane one
I speak again.

It had all begun with a misinterpreted
wind, hissing by my ears, words
reaching my brain, now I think that
I thought of thinking the inevitable.

And my slipping had preceded mind
Protruding thru the depths of conscience
Suffocating the last hopes for proper
Sentience of thoughts, now I'm blind

Shrouded in a lingering inability to
Think? And so I got stumbled in the passing
of the frequencies through the synapses, by
the axons and dendrites, infinitely to my demise
to my mortality hence.