one poem from ten ( depression )
dark and chilly hallways
ice where candles used to burn
the carpet at my feet morphs
from black swirls to cloud grey
electric light drills through my pupils
there’s no escape from this black wolf
it chases my time with relentless zeal
devouring all lies and false truths
emptiness, it burns and boils my mind
no peace and no rest from its squeeze
it steals my joy my heart and speech
till I’m an empty vessel on its breeze
I see my glimpse in the mirrors eye
it betrays the image I’m forced to see
I am but dirt in the throat of sand
and they’ll fall at dunes to reconvene
pressure, that pounding brain of dark
no future, no past and no sunlight
that howl of sanity’s dying park
its grimace is both bold and forthright
as the bleak wasteland sings hell lark
I run from its blackness that imps bright
I once stood a tree, now stripped of bark
myself deserted in my own blind plight
restless nerves that clean do shake
a wonder of whence to me it flew
a convulsive mask my tears shall make
none shall see these rivulets caw and mew
eyes that look shan’t see my quake
a jesters face shall greet their chortle
just a grin I paint, its a calming lake
to drown their suspicions in its portal
eternity, where is thou end
I rescind from light and life forgiven
no rest just toil and a bubbling yearn
to free this soul with which I’m stricken
I wish to fly and pulse light freely
but darkness my faith and my tome
I know the recess in my clay is real
its a depression that I call home
suicide, is only a thought process
its a key to a door that hides the valve
that can be turned to stop the stress
soothe the dark with loves glowing salve
these ropes and razors are a devils tools
to keep your anguish current and eternal
though we know it, still we become fools
and openly glide high on misery’s thermals
set fire to my self doubt
I wish to be me again
not this frame of skin that haunts
the mirror and the sane
a stumbling mass of bones
that moves without contemplation
without heart, soul or zone
just the thrall of eternal damnation
isolation in my own head
I’ve turned upon myself
nothing makes sense anymore
I’ve subsided out of mental health
I can’t see whats real anymore
my brain flickers fast behind my eyes
tears have made them red and sore
and my heart feels so confined
over, its all over
like a tide begging to ebb away
through the grey clouds I can see light
a crack of gold shoots through to my sway
I feel its touch upon my face and arms
its like the first time ever felt
the dark recedes and the light begins to warm
and depression begins to melt
now I’m free, again, for the first time
I’m no longer under its curse
but I know its only a waiting game
till it reappears to show me its ghost
so I’ll try to greet each day with a grin
because what else is there you can do
you can’t run from the dark, or its sin
but how you deal with it is up to you
I've done a kind of acrostic style thing, using depression as a key word. Each letter starts off an eight lined verse; hope you enjoy it.
