A walk into a madhouse

The morning sun signs in with the alarming cries of lady

There is nothing left for her to take care of; maybe.

Solemnly trying to uphold her instruction

A perfect recipe for destruction.

The depliated door handles and broken latches 

share a conniving historicity of the place

Stumbling blocks and influx of space, 

sweet heavens sigh, there is no escape from this maze.

To the world outside; I see through window of numbness

devotions and emotions we ought to compress.

my home is deranged.

Between the implicit urges of alcoholism and paranoia of phlegmatic pain.

The silence sets in with the caution of incoming storm

eerily mirthful voices and the broken norms

popping prescription pills for anxiety and depression

bombing my body with chemical distension

We wake up normal like it was all a lie

crawl in one corner until I hear another one cry.

A walk into a madhouse is a dark poetic composition that plays out the story of a wretched home. Caught up between three different lives that is one of the author, an alcoholic and a paranoid. The poem sets in with a dreadful atmosphere through the author's disposition covering the state of affairs in the madhouse.

Stanza 1: (Morning)

The wakefulness is met with the cries of a lady. It is early in the morning and before anyone could actually wake up, the loud voice of the lady dawns in with the morning sun. She has been through a rough patch in her life and now she's in the phase of her life where she is unlikely going to care at all for anyone. There is still a haze of insecurity about how things are moving forward in her life. Sharing a sense of past with the lady, the author tries to strike a balance by actually upholding her instructions at many fronts by providing a stable hand at a relationship. It determines that the bridges of faith are still in place for the two to connect and nurture a healthy relationship. Cognizant, to the fact that this conformity can actually destroy the whole place calling his decisions as "perfect recipe for destruction" Aware of the consequences, he invests into faith to save a lady from losing it all.

Stanza 2: (Evening)

There is a imagery of home that engulfs the visitor of the madhouse into the historicity of the place. The broken latches and the handle of the door keeps the door stray to the moving wind. That depicts the lifelessness of the madhouse. While it shares an enriching past of rage and violence, there's the value of time that replaces the same with rustic void. 

The altercations at the madhouse has invited several participants from across the towns so there is an influx of people with different situations and perspectives dealing into a house that has seen the lives of three wrecked souls. The walk is full of stumbling blocks.

Sweet heavens here refers to the highest comforting positions that we hold beloved to us. It is in the awful situation of the author that he writes that even the heavens comes tumbling down to the maze of the madhouse that imprisons the life of three. 

The author when he meets people outside his madhouse, constraints himself to a placid beliefs about life. It is his intrinsic learning that one should always restraint himself. Whether it is emotion or devotion. These two factors can be highly damaging.

The last two lines pitches a desperate cry for help. The reasons why the situation of the house has gone from bad to worse. This is the first time where the author calls the madhouse as "my home"

Stanza 3: (Night)

After a whole exhausting day of rage and drama. There is finally a stream of silence. A silence that is not too comforting because it vulnerable to another reaction. The silence also brings in memories where author is reminded of the times when they are joyous in their home of their promises and good times. All these norms are now broken in the moment of silence. 

The acute helplessness is the cause of anxiety and depression. The author takes the prescription pills to perhaps save himself from breaking down. The effect of drugs is like that of distension. The chemicals spread out in the body in all directions. The pill on the tongue is like the bomb on the detonating site. The night slips away in tears and tension. Until the episode repeats itself with the crying sounds of another.