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Abandoned by the doubtful strength, left to hide away in that small, insignificant corner of the room.
The music rages on like a freight train through the black night, but the voices are louder.
The small whispers of hopelessness and misdirection;
tauntings of the bleak light at the end of the infinite tunnel.
Labels pirouette through the thoughts, invading with their cruel dance,
the last memories of summer nights.

The sadness drags you down, legs melting into the floor,
pulling down further into that black pit.
The whispers turn into screams too loud to block out or
ignore in this final moment of madness.

Then suddenly, the light breaks through:
the screams and taunts cease, and the lights seem brighter.
Joy overtakes the sad feelings, the euphoric sense of "everything is going to be okay."
Among the stolen voices and blind eyes, you remain the crazy one down the hall.
Sirens fall back into the night, bringing peace
to the hall of memories lingering through the
minds of the lost and the helpless.