The Lingering Decay

The Lingering Decay.

Poisoned fog deep within the mind,
a tortured thought all confined,
Shrouded, clouded, the concept so crowded,
What's left when the space is lace,
the fabric of your own reality filled of holes,
The conscious, the mind, what it controls?
Just a perception, a deception of the worlds reception,
Your own moral, your value, another loop,
Twisted and pushed through, the birth,
The acceptance of society, your worth,
What's left in the minds eye?
When all are blind and just comply,
Is there a why?
Perhaps nothings left but the lingering sigh,
of a time gone by, when our mind could fly,
as it now sits shackled, about to fry,
and society stands by for our last reply,
Witnesses to our goodbye,
as we cry out and die, by and by.