Poet of the week

Battered By The Wind
Slowly it seeps in,
Slowly it sleeps in,
A dark shoulder for a heavy head,
A dark hug for a hurting heart.
This is what depression is!

Life’s purpose begins to fade,
As death is pursued with haste.
Broken mirrors mirror the soul,
Teary eyes are not consoled.
This is what depression is!

Merging with the lurking shadows,
With false smiles and unseen hollows.
An aesthetic appeal, but beneath lies –
A paper battered by the wind.
This is what depression is!

Tomorrow’s dismay and the yearning to renounce today,
Heart churning to anxiety and haunted dreams.
Gloomy days and starless night,
With no hope of a lighter plight.
This is what depression is!

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Alas! The shadow voices no longer hide nor whisper
Shutting every door of hope, breaking loose despair,
Approaching tomorrow with a greater dread.
Today, a body now lays dead.
This is what depression will be lest you beckon for help!

Youthful Lost
Beneath this frail and aging skin,
lies a caged and cautioned kid,
Who once dreamt of an adventurous trip,
To conquer the world and bring it to its knees.

Beneath this frail and aging skin,
Are regrets of the youthful years,
Of days lived without a fight,
And night spent in painful delight.

Now this fragile bones cannot run to the moon,
Nor can this wrinkled arms reach for the sky,
And with every blink comes daunting flashes,
Of an alternate life where my dreams and I kissed.

When I close my eyes to sleep,
His sighs are the root of my insomnia,
For he pays a visit every night,
Daring me to chase my dreams now!