Melancholy

The cold brings depression,
And so my expression,
Is frightfully sullen and dull,
My thoughts are but chosen,
By consciousness frozen,
There’s nothing left over to mull.

My brain is tectonic,
My mood anhedonic,
And pain is a whitewash of sort,
I’m awkwardly numb,
With a frost bitten sum,
Of the parts that claim bitter retort.

I’m trapped by denial,
Reflecting its guile,
So I might be lured to avenge,
But ill-gotten gain,
Has me searching in vain,
For a past troubled by its revenge.

But the me of today,
Has no use for this way,
I’d rather be free than be churned,
By emotions that dwell,
With nine circles in hell,
I know what it feels to be burned.

So bring me the ice,
While I battle my vice,
For chilled to the bone I can do,
My spirit will heave,
And grant me reprieve,
Till I’m done singing sorrowful blue.

While cold brings depression,
And want of expression,
Is hard when you’re frozen in time,
My rich melancholy,
Will bathe me in folly,
And scribble my rhythm & rhyme.

© The Complicated Bunny – 06 Jun 2021