The sadness crept in like a shadow unaware upon my body, bringing a chill onto the warmth…
I cannot recall, but it has been months now that this affliction has gripped me and seems reluctant to let go. It is haunting how melancholy can yield such a power; and once it harbours it is difficult to cast it off.
Have you ever felt the angst of loneliness among a crowd, the bitter taste of sadness lingering at the back of your mind as all else around you rejoice? How many days has it been that you wished to speak out, but the words didn’t come out, almost as if someone or something held it back, tucking it back in, into the dark shadows and you know that, soon there will come a day when you too shall be engulfed in that darkness, the place where your voice resides. The shadow is a void now growing, expanding, and it is both scary and sanguine how cosy it looks. Opening up to others now feels like those strange acts I am antipathetic to, for the scars of old have not yet healed. Ofttimes I wished to open up my tales of despair to some perchance personage, to let it all out, as a river rushes out when obturated for long, but was always unable.
Well acquainted I always was of promises un-kept by people, for which I was reluctant in trusting. A sense of dusk has settled in, the light abjured and the chill of the night that approaches. Lying down on my bed, I see myself falling into a fathomless pit, no one near to grip my hand and pull me out.
At times I tried to force a smile when people around me were in mirth. Happiness was transient, behind which sadness peeped at me with its innocent eyes, eager to be embraced.
Have you ever been this empty, this feeling that all around is in chaos while nothing in you stirs? As if something is broken deep down, waiting to be mended; waiting for someone to come by and fix you up, mend those broken little pieces, make you feel again.
I cannot recall, but it has been months now that this affliction has gripped me and seems reluctant to let go. It is haunting how melancholy can yield such a power; and once it harbours it is difficult to cast it off.
Have you ever felt the angst of loneliness among a crowd, the bitter taste of sadness lingering at the back of your mind as all else around you rejoice? How many days has it been that you wished to speak out, but the words didn’t come out, almost as if someone or something held it back, tucking it back in, into the dark shadows and you know that, soon there will come a day when you too shall be engulfed in that darkness, the place where your voice resides. The shadow is a void now growing, expanding, and it is both scary and sanguine how cosy it looks. Opening up to others now feels like those strange acts I am antipathetic to, for the scars of old have not yet healed. Ofttimes I wished to open up my tales of despair to some perchance personage, to let it all out, as a river rushes out when obturated for long, but was always unable.
Well acquainted I always was of promises un-kept by people, for which I was reluctant in trusting. A sense of dusk has settled in, the light abjured and the chill of the night that approaches. Lying down on my bed, I see myself falling into a fathomless pit, no one near to grip my hand and pull me out.
At times I tried to force a smile when people around me were in mirth. Happiness was transient, behind which sadness peeped at me with its innocent eyes, eager to be embraced.
Have you ever been this empty, this feeling that all around is in chaos while nothing in you stirs? As if something is broken deep down, waiting to be mended; waiting for someone to come by and fix you up, mend those broken little pieces, make you feel again.