Schizophrenic Poems, Short Stories, and Thoughts

Indolent souls yearn for a purpose 
The listless thoughts are a bane, non-existent 
Reaching out, inner turmoil is fixated 
For life feeds on your languid sins 

Languished...disquieting processes tease 
My mind is a sieve, draining premeditation 
Extinguishing a reality that fades, into not 
A yearning, kill the masters of my turmoil