Loathing

Are these echoes of occurrences ringing in the rafters These quickly answered questions filled with half truths Liquidly maneuvering, so deftly you imagine Or just a false reflection of interior dementia I can taste the acid boiling within my gullet Wretched is the space in which I dwell Gnawing thoughts chew away at my mind Clawing for resolution with none to be found Sleep comes fitfully, the night riddled with horrible dreams To act upon rumor is madness, to do nothing is hell To know the answers I seek becomes an obsession Chasing ghosts in the dark like a madman I have reached my limit, and action must be taken I don’t have the truth, I no longer care I will solve this problem once and for all Only blood will silence the questions