The Insane

Sketches he on the roadside walls Pictures vague with charcoal bits Colour them with dark uncertainty Blackness Invades the colour pot Surrenders brightness to shadows Displacing and imprisoning the light Struggles of a glowfly to crack the shell Suffocation of a rainbow amid clouds Suppressed thunderbolt's urge to crack Long, long nights with shining moonlight Reluctant to dawn and let in warm sunlight Into the chills of the long winters of life The clock stands still confusing to move The hands of time tired of incessant toil To left or right and at what time to strike Bothers not on breakfast, lunch or dinner Nor on dress code nor the nudity uncovered Behind the tattered rags around the waist Throwing stones? Afraid of the poor shadow? The wounds you inflict will turn to a volcano And the emissions will char our civilisation