Burst

Reservoirs of disquiet
fiercely imbue
and saturate the soul,
As emotions pound
loudly on the walls
of suppressed dreams
and desires untold.
Only tenants of woe
are in the know,
of deep-seated unrest
within cavernous mind
and cutaneous mold
Entrenched in
inconceivable sadness.

The soul bursts
on reaching brim,
Like eyes that well
of lachrymose
Or inflated balloons
of sensation explode
Where volcanoes
of thought erupt and flow,
as rivers of molten rock.
The wise pen then bleeds
on the papyrus of emptiness,
As the soul escapes.