Forest of impaled

Schizophrenia

Forest of impaled
Feel the pain creeps through my veins,
Close my eyes and see this face.
What's this feeling, which cannot be named?
Try to escape this deadly race.

Realize I know it, face abhorrent feelings,
Endeavour to name it, call it schizophrenia.
Voices give me orders, I just obey,
Went to a psychiatrist, he called it schizophrenia.

Wardens with straight-jackets, before I distinguish,
Force my hands on my back: "He's got schizophrenia.",
Put me in a cell. I don't know what that helps.
Scholars pass me by: "Another case of schizophrenia".

Sit in my cell, but I'm not alone,
They speak to me, try to persuade
Me that I shall get out of this hole,
But there's just one way to evade:
Kill myself and meet with them.
This promise seems to me like heaven.

"Come and follow us!"

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