In the quiet of the night, a chuckle did resound,
Echoing through empty halls, a laughter unbound.
Not of joy, nor of glee, but of madness profound,
A deranged mind's mirth, where sanity is not found.
Whispers of shadows, tales of yore,
The laughter grows louder, impossible to ignore.
A dance of chaos, a mind's inner war,
Where reason has fled, and madness does soar.
Yet within that laugh, a plea might you hear,
A cry for help, a tear masked by fear.
For a deranged mind, lost and unclear,
Seeks solace in laughter, its only frontier.
So when you hear that laugh, so wild and so free,
Know it's a call, a plea to just be.
For in every deranged mind, a soul you might see,
Yearning for love, for peace, for glee.
