Eyes bulging
Nose flaring – dripping
Ears thick and blocked
Bones frail and weak
Stomach churning, refusing itself
Heart – breaking
Words falling
Gestures limp and lifeless
Thoughts amok – yet dry and useless
Existence dissolving – worthless
Floppy mess – flailing at a deaf brick wall
And to what end?
Is a future inconceivable?
Beyond this bleak horizon
Up in the aether there is a one-word truth
But sight quits at the taunting skies
Calloused fingers tie the soul in place
Holding an ever-rocking – depleted – frame
Stroke arms with their thousand freezing bumps
And dogged – paling – scars
- Frozen in place by the swirling cast of ceaseless thought –
Depression – the inability to construct a future
Depression – the greatest form of cowardice
Depression – the ignorance to progression
Depression – the repetition of depression
And to what end?
I do not know
Yet...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem