The brain brings forth a curious matter,

As if it were trying to represent the Mad Hatter,

Snatching the unrealistic idea of inventions to realistic possibilities,

When the thing we need are the dreams of ability;

To only be seen by the public view,

In which the humans find judgement as a worldview,

Oh, the force of world pressure to be more precise,

 In the correctness of a loving exercise,

 Only to cast it out as an outcast,

The feeling I feel in the comfort of the character cast;

Yet, they still find fault in my eyes of words,

Till they amend it with their own love afterwords.

However the blemishes became more of a fault,

No matter my process of cleansing the vault.

I find my brain bringing a blank to the surface,

Yet, I only find a new preface;

Maybe if  I find a deeper part of mind,

Than my brain would not create such a whirlwind.

As the vultures descend on the deepest part of my brain;

        As if it has found its new bane;

And find fault with my own mind of creation,

Giving worry to the sanity of my own abduction; 

As for the rest, they are greedy for more,

Causing a spiral into a new base for a core.