Insanity Poetry Novels & Stories

I was getting really impatient and angry. “It will happen when your whole existence falls under darkness…the darkness shall rule over you,over everything you know” His lips formed words, but he wasn't using words at all. It was making images appear before my eyes. Images of babies dying. Images of death. Images of people throwing babies into darkness and attacking innocent people. Images of children dying horribly in unimaginable ways. Images of someone I loved losing himself to madness and insanity. I covered my eyes with my hands just to block the vision from entering my brain, because no matter what, I didn't want to see this any longer.

CHAPTER 89 SANTIAGO They say when madness is never just the state of one psychological state, it is the state of the heart as well. At this moment I wasn't even disputing the fact that I was totally insane. I was insane about everything, I was insane at the speed or was going at and I couldn't even stop it — I was insane about life, love and my lust. Everything looked like it was stuck in one part of my brain and I had to deal with it.

And she couldn't tell if it was comforting or scary. "I'm going crazy, I know that like I know my own name. I don't know who I'm writing this letter to, there's no one who is happy to receive such a thing. But I just needed to say that I'm going crazy, I needed to spew those words about something or someone. I've been here for so long, I barely managed to see the flowers bloom or even seen the procession of butterflies, but this curse has gotten the best of me. There is no end to it, this disease has no cure. The insanity is consuming me little by little, leaving just enough for me to finish another day. I wonder if I'll be able to see next winter.

The night sky stretches above, clear and star-studded, a canvas of serenity that contrasts with the chaos within me. I've always found comfort in writing, and tonight is no different. The words flow from my fingertips onto the screen, a form of therapy that helps me process the storm of emotions raging inside me. As I jot down a few lines about my situation, the poem takes shape, capturing the essence of my pain and confusion. It's a bittersweet creation, a reflection of the tangled web of emotions I find myself trapped in.

“Are you satisfied yet?” The voice was so familiar that my mind went blank, and I felt like I had just been struck by lightning. I froze. Trembling, I reached out and slowly removed the mask. A pair of triumphant eyes locked onto mine, and I felt a wave of dizziness. “Well, well! Running off to have fun with my mom, huh? Have you had your fill yet, Naomi?”

As usually, before nightmare Memorable very likes to talk with God: I know you are. You were always there for better or worse. You didn't move a step. You endured when I complained about you. You were happy when I was happy. Still, I can't understand why we have to suffer so much. Is it so that we can enter your Kingdom? What is behind the last line of life? It's hard for me to imagine. Maybe You don't exist? Are you just an illusion of the mind? Every breath I take brings me closer to death and meeting you. Maybe we'll meet you. What will you tell me when I meet you? What can I tell you? Of course you will condemn me for what I have done and for what I have not done along the way. You will

Tell me, how can a bunch of useless nobodies like them be called friends? I closed my eyes, my breath trembling as anger and humiliation clawed at my chest. The pressure caved in on me with such force that it almost suffocated me. Just as I was about to fight back, my body froze. Maybe my emotions had spiked too high and triggered the microchip. Suddenly, all my sadness and anger vanished, leaving only a crushing emptiness. For a moment, it felt like resisting no longer had any meaning. I couldn't remember how I got home that night.

When I open them, Luke is still watching me, waiting. "I need to get my bags," I whisper into the phone. "Luke will take care of everything. Just come to me." This man has always been able to turn my rational mind into chaos. He makes me forget who I am, forget what I want, forget every promise I've made to myself. I hand the phone back to Luke without another word and follow him toward the Range Rover. My legs feel like they're made of water, but I keep walking. I'm such an idiot.

I felt like nauseating, our people were insane, tied to materiality. Compensation – a hope of the war about to end or insanity.

I held on to the railings and looked up to the sky. “I’m missing you again,” I said and let myself cry the agony I’m feeling. I sat on the floor, still weeping about the sadness I'm constantly feeling. “Why does it have to be you!” I shouted while crying. Do I need to be like this every night? Do I have to bring this feeling every single day? When will this stop? I’m too tired to survive. I feel like I can’t do this anymore. A cold wind brushed in my skin. Hugging my sorrows. Washing my agony. Slowly changing them into bravery.