Poetry ultimate psychiatrist

[Snafu in the Void]

In the depths and peaks of my nothings
In this skull, this house, this room,
Fickle hours of vapid happiness
still cast their shadows before noon

Nothing can save me in here,
from massive hordes closing in,
my shadows still haunt this space
but their mysteries are running thin

I pray to the ultimate psychiatrist,
the kindliest God of all Gods,
may I share a piece of myself with you,
without disturbing my odds?


(I should revisit this, it has potential, but needs some work, the tempo is a bit weird)

 

[Mysterier]

my shadows still haunt this space
but their mysteries are running thin

I thoroughly enjoy this phrasing and imagery. Great stuff.