Insanity Poetry Novels & Stories

Many can enter altered states of consciousness. Collective madness is present in the different scenarios of life, socially, politically, religiously and in our way of thinking. But there is a big difference in those degrees of insanity. The madness of a few who are misunderstood for the moment, will be the sanity of the future. In a wonderful book by the great poet Khalil Gibran, he praises that beautiful madness that does not limit the imagination of those who are capable of seeing beyond the physical senses and proudly expresses: "They call me the madman ... ". Because of that blessed madness, it is that we still remain in time and all is not lost. Fantastic love and neural craving will fi

"You shall burn away all accrued cynicism and earthly dross on your path to absolute immolation this eve..." "Just who the f**CK is this crazy guy?"

“This is ridiculous; I gave it my all... Please, I'll give you whatever you demand, whatever you ask for, my powers, everything, but let me go back to my baby.” All I received was silence, and hearing my baby cry gave me no peace. A part of me went mad, and my mind fell into insanity. If someone had painted a portrait of me, it would have been called “Descent into Madness.” I dissociated myself in an atrocious way. I had no idea what was really going on. All I know is that I fell so low that I couldn't find the damn bottom, and that stressed me out. It was so intense that I felt my soul beginning to fracture, and then I felt Izan trying, in vain, to pull on the thread of our bond as mates.

Each was a florid fantasy, not viewed as a tale, but lived in him. He was always the main character, distinguished and adventurous, an illusion of splendor he supposed. Cavin likes them that way, it is much better than ordinary life. So if the thoughts of an insane journey still come, how was he to say he was cured? When even in a precarious voyage of the supernatural, here he was risking his life again. A true fantasy is a fixed mistaken notion that gains traction, like a wheel of a wagon on the road, it propels a person in different paths, often unpredictable and toward catastrophe.

Except now, I was the man losing my sleep over my vulnerability. Before the light of the dawn would take over the smoky, cold night of this heartless city, I ventured into the gym. The state of sleeplessness pumped a heavy of dose adrenaline into my body instead of fatigue, and I had to shed it. More so, my mind was a jumbled emporium of insanity. And insanity was a disease, eating me inside-out. The more I thought about Lilliana, the harder I punched the bag.

I couldn’t possible sit on it, so I used it to barricade myself inside the bathroom so no one could enter. "Okay I got like 20 minutes before my first class." I grab out my book. Not a novel book. An exercise book. I write poems in. I turn to my most recent poem. Cliche but it’s about not fitting in. Sometimes I ponder though, if everyone feels like they do not fit in with the rest, doesn’t that make them fit in? Paradox. "Okay, Umm..." I start to brainstorm and read my thoughts whilst writing them down. 'I want to run far, far away

Millions of jagged lines like lightning strikes painted across the sand, reaching, reaching, reaching— Anzi stared up at the sky, but she saw nothing of it. Her mind was gone, entirely elsewhere, racing through the desert along every branching path of white light that shone through the sand. If she were coherent, if she had her wits about her, she would have wondered how it was possible to be in so many places at once, but all she could do was wait in numb silence as her fragmented mind followed each searching lance of light and power, on and on, until one of them dived deep into the earth, surging below the surface sand toward something that lay hidden underneath.

In the silence, he goes out from here, in the same silence as he came here. Please let me know your feedback. I am eagerly waiting for it. And do follow and like me. Thank you ☺

SIRA To my horror, his harsh words seemed to drive me insane. Everything was succeeding in breaking me apart. I don’t know what to do or what I should do to make me feel better. All I knew was that, I was going insane with needs. I felt his hands move down even more and I couldn’t think straight. Everything was succeeding in driving me insane. I wanted this so much and I couldn’t even think straight. Alpha Eros leaned even closer to me, and I felt like I was hyperventilation. It was just too much and I couldn’t really think straight. Everything was succeeding in making me go crazy and I had no idea what else to do at that moment.

‘Have you started writing poems? I chuckle inwardly at what my subconscious asks me. I have heard that people become poets in love and I have used only a few words to praise him. I think, yes? I chuckle once again, taking a deep breath. After spending two hours in that position, I came out of there. Today my day goes by roaming alone like this. Sanam comes by evening and eats dinner with me. We talked a lot while eating food. If he wanted, he would still feed me with his hands, but I do not like to trouble him again and again.