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
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