A feast of depression, a banquet of despair

Sleeping sadness settles like groundfog into the forest of my soul.


Sometimes when I am alone
and only my heart listens,
I speak to my regrets,
nurturing and nurishing each and every one,
Lest they fail to thrive
and drive
and prosper;
diminish and disappear,
into the wasteland they have made for me,
barren and childless.
Alone.
No, not alone!
I have my despair and self pity
to see me through
into a bleakness dawning brightly
upon a horizon of thorns,
each pruned and trained!
Cultivated, they serve me well
within this lavish country garden
of my own personal Hell.
11/9/4

To be continued.........