Braingeyser

Though the surface seems calm, there are many who know,
That a vicious eruption is waiting below.

And these moments of stillness will serve to confound
You when sense is accosted by thunderous sound,
That erupts from the seemingly innocent mound,
With the spray of that water from deep underground.

But the earth’s not the only place treasure’s confined,
And some things are more precious to all of mankind,
Than the watery fruit which was ripped from the rind,
When that geyser erupted. Just think what you’ll find,
If serenity’s shattered and harshly combined,
With epiphany bursting from out of your mind,
In a windfall you’ll capture, if you’re so inclined,
And can turn it to something more pure and refined.

But some minds are not suited to deal with the strain,
Of ideas bursting forth like a deluge of rain,
They prefer when each thought is a singular grain,
For they are simple-minded, and so they remain,
With no sense of their weakness or how very plain
They’ve become in the face of the dull and mundane
Sort of world that consumes them and hopes to contain
Every facet of life, every link in the chain
That will bind them in bondage, forever detain
Any hope that they’re holding to someday regain
What they lost. But those wishes are merely in vain.
The most merciful thing is to drive them insane,
With a flow of ideas they can never sustain.
All you really require is to ascertain,
Where the wellspring of thought lies so deep in their brain,
Then unleash it and watch as they writhe in their pain.