Melancholy - She Lives

Melancholy, like a tipping light Receives its glory within the spite An hour of unrest bringing with it art The wind blowing perils while seas do part Like ransomed thought trimmed off the track The gloomy, murky night does snack Upon the weak that slowly fade Into nurtured arches of gentle jade Worlds apart have we become Unified by scum of garish glum Building word into world like brick upon brick Worlds that commune—worlds that stick She lifts her body into the tide And curls up billions deep inside Like a transparent ghost, see her flash Scented winks through coated ash Inspired by naught—yet risen from afar A throbbing for purpose—a dying star Beat of drum does not quake her being Lashes close, too wet for seeing Withered rest never falls on her days The night closes upon her as she sways Under bridges festooned in moss She feeds on diseases, pain and loss Where she goes, no one truly knows Where she goes, she truly grows Bird and beast find no arrays Of her blackening faerie gaze But of man does every smile count For their minds do linger in and out Grasping onto her rigid quintessence Nearly failing upon the evanescence Lacking all and full of dour Man accepts its only cure A flask of clear—of ***** agile Tempered by tempests recruiting the bile Howls of wind have blown its course Emotions caught inside her force None do sway so achingly free Except the ever-living Melancholy