A Depressed Soul

Knees against a forehead Eyes hiding with no one searching Feet chilled by the warmth of a tile Anger ballooning, despair puncturing Passive by nature, tortured by sutures. Drops flow to flood, from transparent to red Bonds of blood, not bound to bear Actions seen, a joke glinting of an edge Words could soothe, if only the tone was true Tomorrow made fictitious, by every second passed. Rest should be a means to recover Dreams are feint where reality threads Asleep but awake, lying is deceptive Living in doubt, fear is a constant draught Misery presides over expression, concealment, a futile tendency. Able limbs, succumb to aching muscles Exercise relieves, when discipline is not limp Reflections diminish, definitions visibly inhibited Comfort is sought in volumes, defeat consumes most Hungry for happiness, groping for restraint. Silence strangles, vocalisations stuttered Language a forte, tearing away at a fort Coherency absent, clauses incomplete Penance maybe, for cultured sins Seeds of hope, infertile to a depressed soul.