A mind of two sorts 

The impulse

A rapture 

A cold-hearted capture

The mind, so weak 

Its crumbling infrastructure 

What we hear is not what we know 

This is my mind, but I wouldn’t call it home 

Nor a prison 

Or a rapture 

Nor a cold-hearted capture

Oh what a jubilant parade 

A euphoric asylum 

My mind is a place where I’m constantly shining 

The hedonistic splurges 

Terbulant surges 

A delightful delerium 

Of creative momentum

My mind is split in two 

I could be in heaven 

Then hell 

 This my mind, take it as you will. 

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