Madness | The Wise

Madness comes to those, that
Sadness closely holds.
Life is fragile, until deaths
Scythe through it goes.

Right will it never be.
Sight will let you see.
Tools to use, on you.
Fools will not think through.

Plant a seed, in the snow.
Can’t plead for it to sow.
go, wait for a coming spring.
no plant, until birds sing.

Hail no one, if Madness win.
Sail so on, if sadness wind
Takes you on a stormy ride,
Fakes your only true side.