Mental Illness is Infectious

One moment you are there standing strong against the collective insaniety.  

Then the next  the legions of despair are on you, pushing you back,  sweeping over you.  

With just a little surprise, bafflement, really, before the horror envelopes you

You consider how your perfect shield just crumples with the onslaught

As you feel the spears of fear and swords of hate cut deep

You go under, the marching  boots of callous shame and self pity

Mental illness is infectious.

The armour given so many decades ago grew thin and weak countless  blows of illogic 

Even denial, the go to place failed you

The government is mad.  The mob is upon you. The officers all stood far back from the war.

Shooting their own from behind while in the distance generals toasted their victory in another loss.

The fear is coming now in endless lines money fueled greed. 

It never mattered what you believed. All lies in the ‘horror, the horror!’

Now looking up,  the boot heels, all past, your position over run, praying for relief in darkness,  

You surrender, Vanity, all is vanity. Meaningless and absurd. 

The pain is overwhelming, excruciating, relentless.

You went down one too many rabbit holes,  you lost your way

It really is a maize. The signposts left by Freud and Jung long fallen

You can’t bring any more back  from the underworld. The Gods have ruled. Doors are closed.

You like  Sisyphus doomed.

Mental Illness is infectious.

The King is dead. The Canabalism is returned. Strips of dreams and promises are torn from your flesh..

All your faith in you and me and thee is lost in gnashing teeth till there is simply no one.

Alone in darkness, afraid, angry,  helpless. Waiting for the light. They promised there would be light.

And gold watches and awards, medals and ribbons, titles and burial mounds.

The weight of humanity,  and anxiety bore you down.

The cruelty of the world, the lies and deceit, the money and greed,

It all overwhelmed you. 

I feel a heart still feintly beating. I feel blood is leaking on the once again fertile earth

I can’t get up. A shaft of wood pins me  like an insect in a child’s collection

No one cares. As far as the eye can see there are writhing dying, the still in grotesque tableau 

We once loved. We once loved and laughed.

Now we cry till tears run dry and moans silence. 

There is a time for every purpose

Mental illness is infectious.

In the end all I can say is,  sorry.