Breeze of Depression.

Depression Longings. Aloneness. Love within. Lights Darkness. Noises.

Twilight blows his horn.
Dissonant sound
disorganising my eardrums.
Traffic becomes a pilgrimage of slugs.
The crowd, like bees buzz
And no one looks face to face.

A mood, once light
Like season of harvest.
And paced up like birds
Returning to nest.
Now silence makes a fuss
between him and me
and him and them
and them and me
and them and us.
Suddenly a gush of melancholy
and a volcanic mountain of words erupts

The breeze of depression
sways

our

moods,

dictates

our

speech.

Exploits
our

expeditions.
It is a band of woodpeckers
Lights that once glowed bright
sat on my pupils and reminded me of the days of “The River Between!

Breeze calm. . .
Sound of a horn plays
tunes in assonance

Traffic smoothenes

But the crowd is not bothered

Luck bestowed,

for the lake with shores,

The breeze changes course

The breeze takes a leaf

Depression follows

Eyes gather the strength to meet

to look at another of their kind

And only you is around

With a bouquet full of love.

3 thoughts on “Breeze of Depression.

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