I often design my poems as if they were lyrics to a song,
it makes for better rhymes and musicality in the delivery.
Some actually become songs, as did this one, even though
I never recorded more than an instrumental version of it,
which you can hear on Dsound:
https://dsound.audio/#/@taphophilia/psych-ward-funeral
However, I have the intention of eventually recording it with full lyrics
and re-arrange the music for an industrial-metal type ensemble.
In the meantime, you can read the words while listening
and imagine for yourself how it would sound! ;)
Affixed to our lovely beds
Made so nice
Ecstatic smiles
All ornate and happy mice
Shades of red and green
Floor of healthy lice
Padded walls
Which were committed to our lives
Intoxicated
By a little dice
Sugary cubes
Of so many shapes and size
Blistered lips
To chant inaudible lies
Our humanity
Lost in sedated eyes
There's no place like home
We are so happy, my friend
Imprisoned, alone
Forever, beyond the end
Even as we moan
As we peculiarly change
We're left on our own
Becoming blissfully strange
Friendly white visits
Daily, once or twice
Shiny needle
Inserting hand, so precise
Closing doors
Without a hand for goodbyes
Light as feathers
We fade, into paradise
Voiceless words
Pronounced between soundless cries
The only last remaining
True alibi
Battery
We shred them and their device
Broken Shackles
Lie by our beds as they die
There's no place like home
We are so happy, my friend
Imprisoned, alone
Forever, beyond the end
Even as we moan
As we peculiarly change
We're left on our own
Becoming blissfully strange
© 2018 The Reverend Maelstrohm Black
