Melancholy - Edvard Munch

The tapestry of the indigo sky, weaved with the strips of silver cloud, merges with the still sea in the blues. The dislodged boulders strewn as dry debris, away from the waterfront of desire, symbolize my broken dreams. The anchorless empty boat drifts away from the shore of longing. I feel connected with its desolation for being away from the home you made for me, that is lodged isolated in the yonder rocky ledge. I am in the ruins with my splintered heart, listen to the voice of the anguished soul. Mutilated mind constructs the precinct of recluse, encases the stifling loneliness of poignant prison where the sad psyche languishes with the unsurmountable agony relentlessly negating the perspective of hope in mental affliction. The cauldron of dissonance remote from rhythm of life, its void filled with drops of depression in adagio. My latent desires are demolished, and the malleable mind yields to nostalgia, the remnant of yearning shrouded in melancholy.