HimA Poem by Ren GraceA personal poem I composed about having depression.Him The
joyous years of my life were ephemeral and the despairing ones, slothful. Despite
misery’s degrading reputation, when He visits me I feel impervious. My
heart is fearful of my mind rather than the venomous words that spray out the
perpetrators’ tongues. I am
isolated from my nostalgic past and practical mindset. My soul
yearns for sadness more than the planets long for orbit. There
is no change because the result would be catastrophic, like a lack of sadness. What
else is there to feel with Him in the darkest of night? What
else is there to think with Him when I can no longer think of anything else? Nothing. Only
pain. The
pain, though, is what makes Him worthwhile. Throughout
the multitude of my hardships and ordinary days, sadness has been a constant in
my life. A
majority of souls fear anguish, but mine must be an exception because she
greets Him with open arms. She
cries when He has to go. He is
all that she depends on. Depression
is like an icicle, cold and hard, but once you melt away the ice and shed off
the layers of emotion you resemble a puddle. Unkempt
and messy. But,
that is the con about being a puddle; He likes to jump on you when you are the most
vulnerable.
© 2014 Ren GraceAuthor's Note
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Added on February 16, 2014Last Updated on February 18, 2014 Tags: depression, sadness, poetry AuthorRelated WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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