Prism Of Panic (Pt.3 True Colors: Original Tone) Poem by Axley Jade Blaze

The diagnostic statistics manual forgets to tag it ‘vicious',
There's an authentic disease among us,
It is not fictitious
It's like a prism that scales from bliss to complete hell,
It documents the reason why I lost myself, I fell:

It starts off lovely, perhaps delicious
Like a shade of magenta so gorgeous, it's ridiculous
Jovial bliss—to the extreme
But when it evaporates you'll freeze, and you'll start to scream

It's replaced by a vermillion, a brightly colored red
A red that is poison, and almost like pure static
You're running in circles, imprudent and erratic
As you start to pace, and your rhythm goes towards panic
You'll soar through the sky, it's defined as manic

But then it's eclipsed by something more untamed.
Fire, fire—the house went up in flames!
Vibrancy in orange shades, but deadly as it takes you,
It bleeds, and it batters, and it pillages and rapes you!

Replaced yet again by a stark, fluorescent yellow
Yet, you cannot describe it as something close to mellow
Anxiety and racing thoughts hold your mind hostage,
And you are sobbing and shouting, you feel as though you've lost it.

As pleasure went from bliss to mania, then to utter panic,
Yellow moves to neon green as you become more frantic
The prism fades from elation to the most dreadful kind of sorrow.
The lively things, they fragment, as you fear to face tomorrow

It finally develops into an oceanic blue that's dark and deepens,
Your depression hits you—as you freeze and start weeping
It's agony to lift one finger; sleep dominates your time
All that ringing everywhere; it's the death bell chimes.

Asking when and why this prism conquered your life
A discomfort so laborious, you're screaming for a knife
Welcome to the world where you're depressed, mad, and manic
Characterized by grief and death, it's the PRISM OF PANIC!

©copyright 2017-2024 Prism of Panic (Pt.3 of The True Colors Mini-series: Original Tone)