Schizophrenic Poems, Short Stories, and Thoughts

An, overwhelmingly, familiar voice
disguised as an angel, it sings,
choosing to act as on an illusion, 
while forbearing all reasoning

Dancing visions, sway is tune, 
while listlessly misplacing a smile;
my sins, withering in my mind, 
answering nothing, like an incessant child

It sounds, like an orchestrated hunger
wanting to feed on consistency,
a sultry king, taking everything,
and leaving not, but insufficiency 

This orchestrated hunger, it grows
to a subsection I shall fade away,
tomorrow I shall answer my turmoil
with more poetic words, I shall say

To this hunger, wither in darkness, 
oh wretch, you take but not give
you turn my happiness to anger
and my mind an analytic sieve

To the one almighty God, take this voice
and in return, restore Your loving light;
set free the slave, hollow deep inside;
and prepare me for the fight