The Bridge

There exists a bridge between genius and insanity
With churning waters down below
This ancient bridge be the bane of humanity
Breaking greater men that I down to irrelevance

Sometimes I do not know what is real
From what is but a fabrication
Can not discern how I truly feel
From the forces that pull me across the bridge

Bleed not into me o insanity
Breaker of great men, of artists and kings
Constricting bounds on a writhing humanity
Growing ever tighter until laceration

Mind screaming, “I’m well. I’m well!”
In frenzied passion fester and swell
Guide me not to the depths of hell
For I have a soul

I have a soul, a restless soul
That ponders and ponders until pondering is ill
I have a soul to make me whole
And to pull me from the bridge

Shallow breath giving way to crunching footsteps
Autumn is on fire
My eyes now focus on the depths
Of that churning water

Now the mind warns, “Hold still, hold fast!”
But the leaves are crunching away
Loud enough to blur my past
To block the caveats

Blind man walking with cold stone limbs
Child shaking with blue fingertips
Darker words form upon chapped lips
As daddy’s boy goes on a trip

Black water meets unsuspecting skin
They warned me of its chilling bite
Can not stop, forgotten where I’ve been
Ready for my heart to freeze