Schizophrenic

In the realm of fractured thoughts and swirling hues, A man of whispers, lost in a world anew. His mind a canvas, where reality blurs, A symphony of voices, echoing through the blurs.

In the streets, he walks, a solitary figure, unseen, His inner turmoil, a tempest between. The world around him, a kaleidoscope of sights, Yet his perception, a distorted, mirrored light.

The whispers beckon, their voices soft and sly, Leading him astray, where shadows lie. They paint the world with hues of doubt and fear, A tapestry of darkness, ever drawing near.

He grasps at fragments, trying to make sense, But the puzzle is broken, its pieces unkempt. His mind a labyrinth, where logic fails, Lost in a maze of his own, where sanity wails.

Yet, amidst the chaos, a flicker of light, A spark of resilience, burning ever bright. A yearning for connection, a longing to be known, To escape the shadows, where he's often alone.

So he wanders on, through trials and through fears, A wounded soul, yearning for a cure. In the depths of his being, a strength resides, A determination to find a place where his mind abides.