Seasons of Despair.

The creature came in the night
Body of shadows, if I remember right
Hanging in my room
Stepping from the twilight.



With intent, it sucked the vitality from my chest
Leaving me shaken and mournful,
Weak and distressed.

Gone was the great ceilidh of summer
The welcoming open air dance of life
Now life’s arms of openness
are severed by that knife.


Stark and bare stands nature
A cemetery for my thoughts
A festering grave filled with maggots
Where hopes and dreams disappear
and joy rots.

Virgo, so fair fine and fresh in spring
Now has had her throat slit
And with bleeding vocal cords,
can no longer sing.


Nightly, the beast returns
never sated
I fear it's return
my way seemingly
ill-fated.


I sink deeper into the bleak quagmire
When I will return, I cannot tell
-Inside me burns a recovering Fire-
But all is  not well.

(Inspired by Baudelaire and Seasonal Affective Disorder. Written 28/10/14. )