Archive for depression

HOPE

Posted in death, love, Mental Health, Poetry, therapy, writing with tags , , on September 30, 2013 by Graeme Cooper

Turbulent volcanic waves

May be ridden;

Earthshaking quakes damped.

Hurricane’s insane roar

Can be made quiet;

Blows of the terrible beast cast aside.

Quenched may be hell’s deafening inferno.

But these feats are not finite.

The fight must be daily waged,

Lest fires engulf fevered souls,

Turning to dust their molten core.

Sunrise, blessed relief,

Blinds terror but temporarily until

She finds her eyes

And, worse, her voice again.

Clawing words slash wildly inside the mind,

Casting doubt on defences until

Sleep submerges time once more.

But time undrownable gasps,

oh too soon, demanding

The barricades be manned again.

For to let go;

To let the monsters roar;

To allow the flames and earthquakes

Do their will;

To take cover, watch

The inferno burn itself out,

Is a risk never to be dared.

Is there breath enough

To dare dive, headlong,

Into that depthless ocean?

Where the oozing leviathan,

Hunts and stalks unseen fathoms?

To wrestle and overcome?

Then is there the reach

Left to surface?

Find daylight?

What revenge may other spectres take,

On their kindred’s slayer

Emerging into air again?

Why look,

To unreliable skies,

To bring relief?

Any maternal embrace

Of gentle sun

Has long since set

Over the western horizon,

Never to return

Untainted by cancerous night.

Speak of peaceful dreams,

By all means

But the eyes will always tell

Of fighting dragons still.

Then tomorrow…

Oh, great myth of tomorrow!

Tomorrow nothing changes.

Tomorrow looks at faces,

Says words.

Stays damned.

Give up hope

Of rescue, go native,

Become the beast

Which gnaws the brain.

Spit poison at the weak to numb the pain,

If you must. Reflect

Sour sunlight’s stinging daggers

On one outwardly more wretched. Yet,

In the evening,

Still no redemption will come.

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