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grave

 

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

 

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