Into the Dysthymie's Embrace XVI.I.2020

A shade of spirit gray and lorn
Is now beside me, but all's fine;
Inmate inside this mortal form  
I watch upon the passing time.

Why has to be this way -
In suction of this vortex black
The distand shine was never meant to stay -
My dream is never coming back.

The mantle of grief which she wear
Become a part of my reflection;
Inside streams of demise and despair
The hope is just sign of oncoming infection.

The distand shine was never meant to stay -
My dream is never coming back...
And each rebirth I end that way:
With drowned dream and sadness black.