in-sanity In-love

We, the conscious, only ask
           What is insanity
That which is not sane, they say.
           And who might the judges be... the "theys" of the world
           Might they be the ones who slept on cots
          Or the ones who watched from other chambers
What price must be paid by self proclaimed standard bearers,
          whose contempt is only made darker
          by their refusal to be part of a conscience that is willing to:

          Touch fear as viscous mutations parading life's "what ifs"
          Smell the acrid stench of ignorance masquerading as humility
          See arrogance as fear's ready defense against curiosity
          Hear complacency as an anthem to exhaustion
         Taste the victory of considering madness as eloquence

Such is the price our judges pay as we continue to drink of passions
         beyond the shadows and beneath the soil that feeds all
         who retreat under the bedrock of captivity

         Deeper we travel, where all is nothing and nothing is all
         the innocent state of mind some might label as...

in-sanity In-love