I balance my craze on a razer edge.
Held tightly wrapped by one finger.
An equilibrium between sane and insane.
My craze speaks a language
The language of unspoken tongues.
The "awes" and "sighs"
Craze prefers silence.
It thrives and rumbles.
On thoughts of ambiguity
Cut and Bleed.
Craze makes a fundamental error of judgment
Slash my finger in two
Cut...cut... and bleed.. bleed... bleed.. and die die die die die die !
Call it Bloody Crazy !
Authors note : No fingers were harmed, slashed or died in writing this poem :-)