"The Mind's Disease" - A Sonnet

Scattered, splattered, gone away, and afar,

Destabilized, yet an enlargened heart,

Endless space which surround the light of stars,

And makes all-day experience quite tart.

Can you tell, can you tell, what I speak of?

It's a broken man's burden, that's my hint,

Even more, men receive it's gift from above,

Yet wears, tears down the brain's fortified-ment.

"Touched by the gods," the ancient ones would say,

The angels most manifest in their speech,

Yet technology's all-sight can't quite lay

Its hands or infiltrate the weird mind's breach.

Ask Mary,[1] or Nero, what it is, then,

The lightness which hovers inside some men.

[1] Mary Magdalene.