The Melancholy Spirit
Dry monsoon, flowerless spring, leafless falls, and windless winter, I have seen it all. But now I am cursed with lifeless lines and charmless words, my metaphors have abandoned me. Meanings are becoming obnoxious and ideas are thoughtless. No subtle hint of rhymes and no sign of similes. The pen filled with ink now bleeds red. The little bird of hope and happiness that once inspired magniloquence is now flying away with its brood. I wanted to fly with the wind and drench in the drizzle. But now the storm haunts me from deep inside. A light that the halcyon lit is now ensconcing to darkness to which it was once entwined before. The tapestry of dreams, grey in shade, but take away the bright weft and it is gonna be night again. A perpetual night with petrified nightmares and eternal agony. Please save me before I fall again, please save me before I drown again. My mind was once cold. It had only begun to feel warmth. Save me from those eternal winters and infinite stillness.