Torn

Torn She sits and stares, all the while thinking Will she allow it, or will she not? For a moment she’s misguided By the power that she’s got While she’s sitting there and thinking ’How is this helpful to my soul? Why is it that I am longing To go down this deep dark hole?’ And this longing is exhausting But it’s tempting her as well For a moment she is feeling Like she’s under a dark spell All it takes is a decision She feels helpless, she is torn Between reason and emotion As she sits she feels forlorn How ironic is this feeling When she thinks she’s in control She knows her decision making Can eventually take its toll She is on the brink, not steady The state she’s in is insecure And she’s now a bit uncertain Of just how long she can endure She can sense the mood that haunts her How it puts her to the test Then suddenly her new intention ’I refuse to be depressed!’ Wendy Nipas