The madness cannot be defined by any checklist of symptoms
An asylum is not a material form, nor is it able to be measured
It is in the mind, more than anything, where we become victims
Our brain is not like a machine to dream or choose, but severed
Born into our form, we can only try to follow a path of conviction
Destiny does not exist, only action, our mind dreams untethered
Madness is a disease, one that begs fate, one that leads the way
Our future is unknown and unwritten, with only a fear of shame
“Sanity is a madness put to good uses.” George Santayana
