Fruitless

You seem to yearn for
Me in a way I cannot describe.
There, you hover, in my brain,
Anxious to take over.
Why must you reign
On my parade?

I have tried to dethrone you
And have failed miserably —
You are a constant voice
Of senselessness, burying my soul.

I try loosing, try shaking your hold,
But, King of my castle, you are
And disobeying is futile.
Your booming voice resounds
And fills the room.

My thoughts are no more.
I have sheltered them,
Bagged them up for safekeeping —
Yet, here you are,
Begging for entry,
Adamant to steal them
Away from me.