Insanity Poetry Novels & Stories

after everything I went through, still just insults I did my study on those creatures for years, and I can still remember some of my favourite poetry and poems I read as a kid A Last Word by Ernest Dowson Let us go hence: the night is now at hand; The day is overworn, the birds all flown; And we have reaped the crops the gods have sown; Despair and death; deep darkness o'er the land, Broods like an owl; we cannot understand Laughter or tears, for we have only known Surpassing vanity: vain things alone Have driven our perverse and aimless band. Let us go hence, somewhither strange and cold, To Hollow Lands where just men and unjust Find end of labour, where's rest for the old, Freedom to all

Each failed attempt had escalated my anxiety, my heart racing with every passing minute. I'm not insane. I'm not fucking insane. That was the mantra I'd been repeating since I left home, the words echoing in my mind like a desperate prayer. I'd chanted them to myself like a lifeline, clinging to sanity as the world around me spiraled out of control. But as the hours ticked by, the words began to lose their potency. The silence was suffocating, and the darkness closing in around me was starting to seep into my soul.

You do not counter a child or adult with a sane dream. Insanity is unacceptance. Insanity is not to deter the need of a dream. The need of a dream is you within! Amen. Go establish you within. Come to the rhythm as naked as you believe. Wear the clothes that do not reveal your dream. Another sane will believe. Only a real sane can believe. May you meet your goal. May you live longer than your role, so that we together celebrate victory. For days aren’t to sleep. Days are to penetrate deep within. Explore. Explore.

sukoon smiles and says ok lets start. Madness is an illness… An illness that old age makes you forget. But screw that… we won’t be old for a while… So let’s be MAD tonight! I’ve seen mint in the betel leaf. I’ve seen the gem on your nose ring. I’ve seen a beautiful girl; and a handsome rascal. The moon became a cheater and cheated, so all the stars said, gili gigi akkha. My words, your words, talking so much is a bad habit.

And, Dio mio, I don’t want her to fall into the same madness I’ve spent years drowning in. The world I live in, the world of the insane, isn’t for her. Not at all. It’s a realm of chaos, of madness and vanity, where sanity is lost in insanity. I’ve clawed my way to the top through the fractured minds and shattered thoughts that surround me. It’s suffocating. It’s a constant struggle because I have to maintain a grip on reality within the abyss of insanity. I don’t want that for her. But here she is, crumbling in front of me, pulling me to her like an invisible thread wrapped around my neck.

One asks, leaning his arms against the icy metal. “It’s not that I want to die.” I hiccup, tears falling from my lashes and freezing against my cheeks. “It’s just that I don’t want to live if this is all life has to offer… and I’m afraid that this is truly all there is for me. I have no reason to believe otherwise.” I shake my head forlornly, “they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results. So I would be crazy to think I can keep meeting the sun each morning without inviting more heartache… wouldn’t I?”

" Slamming the whiskey bottle on the wall I grumbled in anger. I am just tired of all these things, this girl is fucking driving me insane, she is complicated. The more I tried to stop thinking about her, the more I found my attention focused on her. She is making me insane without putting on any effort. I just want her out of my mind!!!

She could not move from my place for a long time. And no matter what, the night will pass You will die at night There will be more poison in life at night Now, if it stays, the night will pass in the veins and veins It is too late for sunshine to come from the horizon The night will shatter like a broken mirror The night will shatter like a broken mirror How long have we been wandering in darkness? If you stay, the night will pass in an instant The end of the night is also known to me The magic that has crossed its limits will go away at night

I reached for the Original Resentment. I took the Sovereign-Fang—the weapon that had grown from the Hunt, the Soul, and the Design—and I didn't strike Jackson. I Struck the Fantasy. I drove the blade of red-gold sinew into the "Perfect Narrative" on the marble floor. I didn't try to save my history; I Invalidated the Meaning. "I AM THE ERROR YOU CANNOT FIX WITH A POEM!" I roared, the White Light of the Origin erupting from my spirit not as a sun, but as a Tidal Wave of Raw, Un-Refined Failure.

That’s what they said. The sound of her laugh diminished. Germa twisted her bind arms, the pain, which seems not to bother her, unbearable cracks lingered, but her face, the expression was passive. She was breaking her fingers to loosen the rope tied, yet it never contorted—her eyes, empty sockets until her lips protruded into a satisfactory smile. It was crazy, perhaps what people usually said was true. When one tend to find themselves already having nothing to lose, when they are fuck up by life to the core, they became insane. Insanity bearing what they can do that they haven’t done before.