Chains

Chemical imbalance and its furious thrusts
The price I wouldn't pay for a moment of calm
A strong will confined in a withering shape
Kicking and screaming perpetually

Many thoughts, many seasons passed
Countless hours spent in turmoil
Beyond the inner twists, what truly remains of me?
Is peace only found in the endgame?

Even lazy summer days are filled with abstract need
In endless search for what's missing beneath

A creeping sense of desperation
The twisted faces in the periphery
A reluctant smile, facade of the unseen
Spiralling thoughts of what could have been

The intoxicating moments when I gaze into a world of colours
This flicker of life is a haven, yet the ultimate of insults
Nothing remains of intuition and instinct, core and essence
I am but a machine, the martyr of my own creation

At the heart of what could have been
In light of what I've become
I feel betrayed
The glimmering surface is rid with holes