Penitentiary

Walls build up high,
To a ceiling that never ends,
A hallway that never stops,
A loop that never breaks.
I am the only one here,
A thousand beds to chose,
Pacing for days,
Trying to find one to sleep in. 
I hope sleep is the only escape,
Hellish nightmares may turn,
Into beautiful Autumn forests.
Or maybe I will close my eyes,
And wake up in a different bed.
The walls are all empty,  
Except one towards the end,
A picture hangs there,
A figure on the beach.
Walking between earth and madness,   
Perhaps the figure is me,
When I get out of this,
Hallway of insidious circumstances.
Some beds have lakes,
It makes me wonder,
If I might be somewhere,
In between.
Like the figure on the beach,
Who walks between earth and madness;
Maybe that is where I am.

And
I am
Free
Of the walls,
Of penitentiary,
No longer trapped.
I walk across the sand
Far away from the waves,
Maddening and corrosive.
I only know dry ground,
Sunflowers grow tall on,
The banks of the beach.
The sand goes on and on,
No end in sight again.
I left one madhouse,
To walk into another.
Walking on and on,
And on, and on,
And on, and on,
And on, and on,
And then madness.