By Vincent Valentine

I walk down a dark hall and there is a door

Three feet tall it is and no more

For the door the larger would implore

A giant and a mammoth

Spoken of only in fantastic lore

This is to say that I am small

Small indeed not at all the tall

Or does it mean that this is my worth:

Naught at all?

As I struggled this to ponder, wide was opened the door

And through this portal I did see the raging of a war

Rather the war raging in my brain

Rendering me totally insane

And in this war which many fought

The winner there was naught

And as I comprehend this in my brain

I am aware of the extent to which I am insane

I am mad!

I tell you mad I am!

For no victor there was had

Yes, ‘tis true, I am mad.