Melancholia
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I see it spiraled into the vast midnight stars
Grand depicted meadow
Enticed by the whitest of light
A black dichotomic view into mundane life
The spiteful sun within a turning sky
Sink familiar into the fields
Of melancholia
Questions of when it may be
I don't feel for my death
My own fate
Thought attempted
In vision monochromatic
So which void will I feed?
Reoccurring fog gowned alienation
Separated from a sought normalcy
I sacrificed it all though nothings changed
A lamb offered to lead nihility
Grazing through the old burning fields
Of melancholia
Longing for what it will be
I won't feel in my death
The void that I have opened
Beneath a starless horizon
Of melancholia
No chemicals flow
Sorting pools
Synaptic fatigue
The wandering
Flat affect
Pessimistic grin
Anhedonia
Your night song echoes
Asphyxiated
Severing the ties
Desperate despair
Seals my own fate
Another day
It won't change
I contemplate
I see it through nomadic eyes of storm
The unshakeable grey
Lone
Lost days
Charred spores drip
Wraps my tongue
Dry swallow
So... Which void will I feed?
(Anew)
Psychoactive vision
One trail led me here
From existential exhaustion
Sheltered by a palace so pale
Parallel direction
Thoughts speak solemnly
Unfamiliar merging
Witness it like new
As I embrace for the death
Through the third eye pried open
Your constellations lead me
To melancholia