Tags
anger, death, depression, eternal, forever, free, frustration, loneliness, mental illness, psychology, rage
Visions of my crumpled, lifeless body,
haunt my aimless footsteps.
Spectres from the grave welcome,
this life-weary traveler.
Tomorrow, that will not come, denies
upturned eyes, the soft rains of hope.
Flames of sorrow and rage sear,
this tortured soul.
Ragged hell-cries of desperation rip,
and pierce my mind.
No sound is uttered,
since there is no ear to listen.
Grief rises and swells,
like the limitless ocean,
swallowing this helpless, solitary victim,
in tides of comfortless tears.
Mother earth, take this flesh, these bones
to your rocky bosom.
Pull a cover of earth
over this last weary day.
This poem represents a very bleak period in my life. After expressing my feelings on paper I sought psychological and medical help. I am now pleased to report that suicidal feelings have been abandoned. Depression will always be with me; however medication allows me to live a healthy, even happy life.
Read about my friends here http://buff.ly/1wyjiKS
Dennis Cardiff 
I, myself am grateful for each bleak period, be it for the contrast with the brilliant ones, or just because I’m self labeled goth.
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So wonderful that we heal..
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That’s a very big journey Dennis, and after much pain and torment comes the place where you attract the beauty of what you have achieved by going through it.
Take a bow my friend, it is an incredible accomplishment 🙂
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Writing has saved many a soul. Wishing you tranquility in a turbulent life.
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Happy you were able to write through this period and seek help…in this, one finds hope for all others who may find themselves on this path…your poetry is universal and very well-written…thank you for sharing
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