A great dense fog reaches out to embrace
pulling me forward, against my will
Leeching the life from my mind and soul
turning me into a starving waif.
I cry and I scream, silent hostility
pounding against the erected walls
Unable to break through into the light
tears coursing down my face.
Paint me up with a clown’s face, smile
ignore the beast that rumbles within
Pretend that the pain will ebb
and life shall always return.
Wrapped within the greyest of depression
unable to see the path to freedom
Stumbling to fall to my knees
my heart pierced and torn.
I cannot get away, I cannot recover
lost within this depressed state
Seeking a doorway to the light
feeling as though I shall be lost forever.
©Jay-lyn Doerksen
July 9/17