I'm Sorry
I can't help
In this Endless winter
Darkness holds my emotions.
As Snow falls from an empty sky
My fear grows within the eye
Of the sick stag, no pleasure
In his death, no need to cry.
As I walk deeper into uncertainty,
The black bark of dead trees fills my gums with splinters, I cannot speak,
I cannot call to you, my love.
An era of desolation rears up,
Like a horse without a head,
Unsure of its path,
Without eyes
it is wild and bloody.
Traveling within wind and rain,
A virus, released from his gaping wound, no medic upon his saddle to pour the iodine in.
At night, in bed, when I rest
the most restless of rests,
A million breaths gasp for life,
There survival depends upon our willingness to exist.
My will is weak, I have succumbed to depression, I have accepted his tumultuous gallop and I will not be able to mend you, this winter.
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Comments
Wow Gerard, this is a profound write, my friend. Depression does come galloping in at a rate of knots. One minute you find yourself doing okay and the next, bam! There it is! I'm sorry to hear you are going through this... But you have written an exceptional poem x
Hi Christina,
Thank you so much for your concern, I'm doing fine as I can be, this poem, these words have stemed from another me, most people believe in God and most people believe that God dwells within us, this poem is based on his words. Well, that's how I feel.
I feel betrayed, I speak of a headless horse and a virus currently making its way around Europe, I feel darkness has descended upon us, there is a gloom, a depression in the air that God himself has succumbed to, I can feel the dying, the pain as there chest barely rises to greet his back.
Thank you for your comment. X
What Cherie said!