X-tremes

Speaking of times of good old’ self,
In a mental bondage I dwell myself.
Now the future I foresee,
Nothing but pain and misery.

Passing through the extremes the usual way,
Unusually f***ed up my words do say.
Within my hands I crush my fate,
I feel nothing but dirty hate.

Passing through the extremes the other way’
Chained to death by the twist of fate.
Looking at the mirror I do get a choice.
Live through the extremes or the “other side.”

My reflection stares back at me,
Looking for the extremes I hate to see.
Virtually I have seen it before,
Right down to the end of the core.

Passing through the extremes “the other side,”
Insanity and further mystified.
Loneliness it teases me,
I have passed the extremes just let me free.

Speaking of times of good old’ self,
Passing through the extremes the inner me.
Unusually f***ed up my words do question,
Is it Love, Hate, Tragedy!!!