an ode to melancholia (a broken poem)

when the silence of the night is too loud,

when the din of the day is music to your eyes,

when you seek solace from solemn eyes;

your shoulders are heavy, mind in wanderlust;

the world goes round, and round; rings of faith

encircling the vultures verily vowed for vengeance.

if you were to drop melancholia

when life could stop, or it does, and you wish to freeze.

when life just feels… and the moment goes on longer

and longer

and longer

and longer

and longer

until it is not a moment.

everything is a one, until it turns sour.

you are the root, the rhyme, and the reason;

you could have prevented what followed;

when you let it be instead, why?

a moment’s pain or a lifetime’s ache;

there are no easy choices because you thought it might be love, or maybe you hate to be alone.

it just might be love, but does that clear you of indemnity?

someone once said one of the tragedies in life is getting what you want–

you always ruin what you love, you cause misery and you are unworthy; it’s who you are–

some days it hits home.

when you are not who you think;

when you are scared of what despair you could cause,

but when you feel so alive and, oh, all so alone.

but to lose them now, or hold on forever, in a different capacity?

when- why?- you must choose the quickest way to any destination?

lonely man looking into the scenic view

your loneliness could fill the ocean, your lust the sky, and a beautiful creation

lonelylust is born, or is it just a form of loneliest?

why are you so? nothing ever stops them leaving,

but is that you?

warped realities; playing the victim; les misérables lies.

why is it all of them end up being sad and broken, implicitly calling for help

while you pile on the misery, when you are the common denominator,

it makes sense to see yourself for who you are.

a monster; a liar; a smoke.

a wave of melancholia washes up, and suddenly i can– i ca– i can’t breathe;

my throat is collapsing and i c–

you sea peril.

over time, this wave morphs into a corporeal form,

residing inside you.

when you gi–

it’s a good day.

Six Times Forever: A Poetic Recollection of Hopeless Romanticism is available on Amazon. Click on paperback or kindle to visit the appropriate links. You can also find it on Book Depository.
Click here to listen to my podcast (Panacea of Rhapsody) on

© Essentially Donut, All Rights Reserved.

swim ashore, i hope.

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