Poetry Teeters On The Edge Of Insanity Mga Nobela at Kwento

A certain crippling fear that wrapped itself around me, muddled with the darkness and the depth of the insanity in my mind. I was starting to lose my damn mind! Yet, I kept walking. My feet crunched over objects I had no idea what they were, but when I marched on something and it screamed, I paused, and in a blink, I was flung away. I found myself falling down deeper into the pit, the darkness getting more and more fierce, wretchedly snatching at the remnants of the sanity I held firmly in place.

He paused, his head tilting as if listening to a distant melody. "But you know what they say about patience. It's a virtue I possess in absolutely no quantity whatsoever." The metal jaws clamped down around another tooth, this one further back. The man's body went rigid, his muffled screams reaching a fever pitch as Zandrei applied a slow, steady pressure, savoring the resistance before the final, sickening give. He pulled, the root tearing free with a wet, ripping sound that made one of the newer men down the line flinch.

Madness has a name, and it wears my mouth like a prayer. A curse I cannot lift. It’s like a loophole, no matter what I do, where I got, it always leads me to the madness. I’ve never felt this way. Like I’m possessed by something that shouldn’t be named. Shadows whispering sweet deliriums into my ears. It’s not love, and strangely, it’s not hate either. It’s something in between. Something cruel, something all-consuming. As if I’m moving barefoot on gravel, knowing my feet are bleeding, but I can’t stop.

But after getting acquainted with Isabella's sweet wet parts and her ferocious fighting, just the thought of touching another person made me feel nauseous. So now, I am nothing more than an entity filled with tension and violence. An existence that cannot be measured or contained and continues to grow bigger with every passing second. My beast has scratched and clawed at the walls of my sanity, demanding a way out. The crazier the better. I wanted nothing more than to give it a taste of euphoric anarchy. But the downside was, if I let it loose, Isabella wouldn't give me any more time. I would be mentally changed and could and would revert to drastic measures to have her again.

anger started pulsating in me. "I'll call you whatever I want, little one". She again stated with a smirk. "You don't know what I can do to you" I said while gritting my teeth. She took my hand and place it on her throat. "Then do it" she whispered. Is she insane?

casually, sticking out his tongue in a cheeky grin. "Leo likes sweet stuff, and Ms. Linton has diabetes, so I thought he should taste it—" He didn't even finish his sentence before Edith slammed her hand against his head. He yelped, baring his teeth in an exaggerated scream, quickly begging for mercy. I couldn't help frowning. It was so noisy. I really didn't understand why my mother even came here. For someone like me, what was the point of having playmates? I was just about to tug my mother away when she suddenly stepped forward, warmly taking Edith's hand, a satisfied smile lighting her face.

Just words, spilling out like a lifeline, trying to hold onto some shred of sanity. I wasn’t going crazy. I couldn’t be going crazy. But the walls—they were so close now, so suffocating. The silence was too loud, and I couldn’t drown it out.

With that, she walked out leaving the 15 years old boy battling with the insane and sane parts of his mind. He slowly closed his eyes and that time he let the strongest part of his mind win. That night, His sanity got defeated by the insane part of his mind. Day turned to night and she again entered the basement and this time she looked like she was in hurry. She brought out a knife and sighed heavily.

I no longer choose to dream because I start believing that it is absurd. Because what precisely is a dream? Is it like crumbled leaves and stems from a tree falling from the highest altitude and touched down on the rock bottom like shards of glass? I cannot put everything back together, having known that the coming years are a clouded reflection that I cannot seem to decrypt from afar as the fumes engulf me. But what must I do? In order to preserve your sanity, you must keep on dreaming. Unsurprisingly, I no longer have it. *** Unknown POV

As confusing as it is, the tidal wave is in the pot. It celebrates the notes and letters from your steps to mine and mine to yours. Days and weeks and years passed, steady on the boat that never tumble It balanced the weight that carry the break and the solution to the sanity When nights arrived, it became insane and wild. Compare it to tamed animals now free from humanity's illusion, like as if we were new to each other’s arms As I stand here on the boat, saving our lives, paddling our bodies to safety, scorching the winds of foolishness,