Whispers weave through shadowed halls,
Echoes dance along the walls.
A fractured mind, a shifting sea,
Yet silver threads still glimmer free.
The voices call in jagged tones,
Yet sometimes, not in threats, but poems.
A world unseen, a painted sky,
Where dreams take shape and learn to fly.
Between the static, soft and bright,
Ideas bloom in liquid light.
A mind that bends, a soul that sings,
Finding hope in broken wings.
Not all is fear, not all is lost,
For genius walks where reason’s crossed.
And in the dark where few may see,
Silver linings whisper—be.
This poem also lives at my DevArt gallery, https://www.deviantart.com/fairyspore/art/Silver-Threads-in-Fractured-Mind-Schizophrenia-1173421769
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