Jul 21, 2021, 8:22 PM

Into the Dysthymie's Embrace XVI.I.2020 

  Poetry » Other
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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.

© Peter Wolf All rights reserved.

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