Transmutations of Torment

In the time of my restless mind,
I grapple with shadows, thoughts unkind.
A ceaseless game, memory's bind,
Yet I falter, creativity confined.

A struggle fierce, against the flow,
Wasted moments, time's cruel tow.
A whisper, a plea, to break the show,
To shatter chains, and freedom know.

Aging's specter, a silent guide,
A constant reminder, nowhere to hide.
Searching outward, where shadows bide,
Yet within, true treasures reside.

The guitar's song, a fleeting grace,
Echoes of longing, in every space.
Methylene blue, vitamins embrace,
A quest for solace, in life's race.

Tropical blooms, on ledge to spread,
A splash of color, dreams ahead.
Blinds to replace, where curtains tread,
In these small acts, a life is fed.

A longing to linger, in comfort's sway,
But change beckons, no more delay.
Through movies, through scrolls, I seek the way,
Yet pain's cruel grip, a price to pay.

In every motion, discomfort's sting,
A symphony of ache, each note a fling.
Words falter, as pain takes wing,
In silence, the end, my voice now thin.