Melancholy

melons everywhere. rolling down toward me. Like the dow it really had to happen.

melancholy overcame him, dragging his soul into slow motion flickering time.
Nothingness a fog of sad dead initiative clouding the endless night
He stopped in mid stride, realizing the fruitlessness of flight
How could things have turned so suddenly tight
Ripping to tear apart the core of his self
He fell sinking into the cold wet bog
There was no reason to rise
No feeling worth feeling
Time was forsaken
He embraced
Melancholy

Reviews

[Emmie]

I love this piece becauseI can relate easily, but then again, most can. Good write! =)

[Rain]

Very unique pattern to this. Don't you find you write your best work, when melancholy ? I like this piece. Rain..

[C.L. Wilson]

There's just somthing about the shape that magnified your words. I can relate to the cold, wet bog feeling. I never found the words for it till now. Just brings back.....memories or maybe open scars?

[Gandré]

This was an interesting visual concept, you rarely do it, it is pretty difficult to manage, I never tried.
I like your description of melancholy. It is truly amazingly beautiful. I could listen P.I. Tschaikowski while reading this piece, perhaps.. his violin concerto.

[R J Askew]

Bloody hell, i love that image of the nightmare melons! 'Cold wet bog' ... yep, know the very one. Also like the way the appearance of the poem suggests a downwrds regression, as if even your will to think and write is regressing into the melon slough.