Perhaps madness is merely balance itself
Perched upon the serrated edge
Alone in the darkness of your own oubliette
The cavern of your mind only you can imagine
With the echo, echo of your thoughts to keep you company
Some bounce so fast
Some drag loud and slow
And you just wait on that edge wondering if the sun will rise
Or if you should fall to drown out the endless shouting in this hole
And the terror that if you move
this edge will slice you in two.
Will it be over or will your mind just split and double you?