A Maniac's Lament

These wretched walls are closing in,
as here I sit, immersed in sin.
I feel as if I’ve lost my mind,
these tight constraints lash, bite, and bind.

 
Mired in my mad mind's misery
dark demons clutch, they’ve come for me.
Cold, osseous hands brush at my cheek.
Reach out for me, my soul, they seek.

 
Whisper soft, the words they speak
crawl in my mind—I’m feeling weak.
I must summon the will to fight,
in sunbeam’s glow or darkest night.

 
I hear a scratching in the walls
as woeful wails waft through the halls.
So silent now, thus, it would seem
no one is left to hear me scream.