Jolai, jolai, jumbie gone come

My mind is dizzy, I am clouded.
Discordant and disconnected narratives, run rampant through the halls of my mind,
Stirring memories from their chambers,
Rising,
Not at all
In unison,
Their voices surge in tumultuous waves,
Angry and fearful, and manic, and depressive, and blase, they call out,
The flood of sound straining against the very walls of my skull.
Lucky it's all padded so nicely...
Stiff thoughts march past, commentating all the way on what a mess the place was and how nice it had been,
Sometime before... What?
What was before?
The night was before, with all the sounds of nature,
Twining in and out of my own calls, wolfs, and frogs, and rabbits, and Jolai
All singing to the moon, but the moon loved Jolai best,
She let her best beams rest on him and he alone,
He made her proud, his howls and shreiks cut the through the sky to reach her ears,
She was pleased, he could tell my the way she bathed him.
She bathed his naked body all in bright piercing light,
But....
It was wrong...
ALL WRONG!
The woods had no pads, no piercing stinging lights, no ugly white creatures with fur only on their heads,
Jolai must escape,
Must get away!
But...
The glass bug was biting again,
Jol.. a. I, a Jol...
I was Jole!
And Jole was tired...
Jolai would sleep, then howl,
Then the mother moon would bathe him in love again.