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.