Sheltering Myself From Unhappy Thoughts

Sheltering myself from unhappy thoughts, is recalling those serene days on deserted shores... picking up empty shells discolored and broken, they mean squalor to the vagrant who has awoken! Instantly I'm overtaken by the somber winter's blues, it's the sureness of the February sky that deludes; and turning myself into a seagull I explore infinity... there all the sins that the earth declares meet divinity! Looking down the unread book turns its pages with the help of the whimsical wind rising from its deep; if any storm should suddenly arrive: all the dreariness I would keep, not be imagining what's unseeable that can hinder radiant images! Being hopeless strips me of laughter and of its salubrious humor, solitude incurs the anger and the guilt of dissociating from friends; they are needed when some tragedy all abhorred pain transcends... I glide through unlimited space wishing I had understood this sooner! How can this restless wanderer shelter himself from unhappy thoughts... when tears trickle down his cheeks being assailed by poignant moments? Even sadder is the nostalgia that increases its depth of degree; can he shut his eyes to oblivion and pretend that he's finally free?