• finnisam 23w

    @writerdilse @readwriteunite @mirakeeworld @writersnetwork
    Even the most pleasant noises become terrible. Insanity grips repetition.

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    Ask Not. Get Out.

    The bell tolls. What for this time?
    Maybe it beckons my soul to the underworld.
    It becomes less harrowing. Almost a whimsical chime.
    Memories and the noise. They’re mine. Safely furled.
    Unbeknownst to me. The sound is in my head.
    Once soothing. Soon becomes a cacophony of madness.
    Chime. Again. Ding. Again. Singing such dread.
    Too. Far. Gone. I think. Yet fight the sadness.
    Shut up. Stop ringing. Get out. Please.
    To think you were once pleasant. A safe haven for me.
    I’m sorry. Too much of anything becomes a disease.
    Small tears. Remaining constant. Soon become a sea.
    My madness has no method. My mind no key.
    Ask not for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for thee.