Often thought I could escape the lows
Hoping somehow they would all go away;
But with each new day,
All I wanted to do
Was to think of you
As I find myself
In room caged, dimmed of light,
In the crushing stillness of night;
Reflecting on a love once known
A love we've both outgrown,
Only to dwell on the lows again
In tomorrows of another day—
And the memories we shared.
Heavy is the cloak of sadness
That transforms depression to despair,
A weight too great to bear.
Perhaps an OD on 'Molly' or "Meth"
Would kindly 'rest my breath
And favor me with death—
My demons accepting nothing less.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A strong gripping write on loss, depression, unending regrets and the usual escape, the cowardice of OD. Actually, life is what we make it and our choices reap those regrets...or victory. The strongest man is he who has himself subdued.
Thank you for your kind and noteworthy remarks regarding the writing, Cynthia! If you consider it worthy, perhaps you could award a rating for the work. Thank you, again...and best wishes!