S.A.D.

What S.A.D. feels like, to me.

As the cold wind blows

My soul retreats

Ever deeper

Into itself.

 

Sound of morning rain

Gentles my troubled soul

Into a land of dreamless sleep

As the day slips by.

 

While

The sunless slate sky

Saps my strength to leave

My comfortable bed

To face the morning.

 

Each passing day

My resistance weakens.

 

'Til I find myself

A hallow shell

Of my previous self.

 

Counting each day

Still to pass

Before I can emerge

In the sun's embrace

From the shadows.

 

Hoping

This taint has left

Leaving my soul

Spotless.