Depression, by Roland Tye
It swoops in like a raven. Black and blue. Turns everything inside out. My thoughts invert. My feelings deform. Those closest to me become enemies. I am helpless in the grip of those talons. Unable to silence its vile caws. I know its game oh so well but cannot help but play along. I am but a puppet dancing to its miserable tune. All I can do is wait until it flaps its wings and departs, leaving me bloodied and breathless. But also unbowed. For the darkness is only ever temporary. The blessed light eventually returns.
13/4/2018 11:47:54 am
Poignant, Roland. Lovely in a melancholy way.
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