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.