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Neurotransmitters

They took away my belt and my shoelaces
I'm stretched out on my back in my quarters
Not knowing whether or not I'll be lucid
In the next several minutes

The walls seem always on the verge of moving
Though they never quite do,
And I feel as though my sanity is up for grabs.

Down the hall, there is a man they refer to
As the Angel Gabriel, for every five minutes
He cries out "Halelujah!"
Must be some tremendous vision of his,
Albeit a divine hallucination,
For he is in here for different reasons.

The other day, I saw him for the first time,
And he had a rather menacing look in his eyes,
A look that led me to conclude that it is strange
How we can never quite understand the soul
Of someone who has lost his mind,
Yet we can most certainly feel its presence

And this sensation is often accompanied
By a twinge of fear, like that first time you
Heard thunder, but were terrified,
Because you did not understand it.

Needless to say, I was left cold
And there was nothing I could do,
But nod to acknowledge his existence,
And turn the other way.

John Ejaife II

This poem is appearing in the Book
Spinning About Three Axes

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