Stillborn Knowledge - White Ward

Silent hell within my mind

I’m deep in thought since I was born

Lethargic vigil fills my dreams

I hear echoes of those who mourn

Mirrors are covered with snow-white sheets

Dismal whispers hide in the corners

What are you doing?

Is this a game?

Why do you treat me like a goner?

In single file they come to me

Mumble something, rub their eyes

Voices too low, faces too grim

I just can’t get what are you trying to tell me

I have stopped dead in the middle of motion

I am the rock in the centre of mountain stream

My stillborn knowledge disinfects your sympathy