Mark of a Madman (Sonnet)
Jacob Pietryga
“Encore!” cries the jubilant phantom crowd.
A plea of zeal I simply can’t ignore.
My inhibitions weakened, madness proud.
My inner chaos crescendos once more.
Break the pusillanimous barrier,
My personal demons left free to roam.
I play the part of my own harrier
Scolding each failure in my mental tone.
Satisfied, the audience goes silent;
I no longer hear the strident rhythm.
My metronome’s ticks are calm, not violent,
Yet inside I can feel a new schism.
How could I know what new curse I possessed,
Emblazoned in me, insanity’s crest?
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