The Edge of Sanity

Only at the edge of sanity
Is freedom found
For the 'sanity' of this world
Is insane.
Constricting conformity
Contradicts our essence
The conspicuous conundrum
Yet remains elusive
To the encumbered spirit
Which was never separate
Yet, we feel alone
Disconnected from the source
It need not remain
Our destiny
To be isolated
Separated
Divided
Misguided
Controlled
Limited
Alienated
We are not meant
To be encapsulated
Or encased
In the hell of plasticity.
And, if plastic dreams
Are deemed sane
I would rather skirt the edge
Perhaps, jump that ledge
And I would not fall
But only rise
To a better world.