The chameleon of evolution is a psychotic find.

There’s loneliness in the institute of the white padded walls

Where your voices echo helplessly in the darkened halls.

Where you scream and shout to eliminate your pain

To dissolve the evil voices, so you once again can reign.

There’s a cunningness in the persona that occupies your mind

The chameleon of evolution is a psychotic find.

A masquerade of survival it eliminates the threat

Until sleep deprivation calls in the debt.

The padding feels like candy cotton as the sedation flows

 silencing the voices as the heavy curtains close.

It rips through the grey matter freezing the soul

Punishment for creating an alternative role.