Whispers all around,
Unclear, and although
In an imagined mocking
tone, thought to be reality,
None of it is. Speculation
Of untamed mind, seeping,
Weaving tales into certainty.
Torment brought down onto
Restless intellect by one’s
Own deprecating fist.
And too hard do vicious
Words drive nails into
Crumbling confidence.
Unable to take a stance,
To rise beyond what is
Thought. But gives in
to the falsehoods of
Dire bricks set in stone.