Grips of Depression.

Beneath a dull, greying sky - I lay, and I watch -

You stand there on hard earth

With your outstretched arms,

Beckoning me close,

And within your eyes - resides a coldness,

And I dare say - 

Belies a desperation, a vanity that encloses your heart.

Your face is a scarred mass of distrust,

And you're twisted and crippled

Yet, you've lived on -

In an endless parade of insanity.

Depressiondesperationhopelesspersonal

◄ Black Dahlia.

If Time Had Stopped. ►

Comments

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ken eaton-dykes

Wed 29th Jun 2016 13:10

I like this. The last four lines could also be a metaphor describing a weary World we live in

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