Do you know what sadness feels like?
Is it tangible, you ask?
I believe yes, it is.
It’s like a silken scarf,
Soft in its approach,
Yet steady in its steps.
It wraps itself around you like a softly grazing blanket,
Deceiving you with its delicacy and cold warmth.
No, don’t be fooled by its soft whispers,
They won’t lead you to salvation.
Those soft murmurings will only put you in a trance,
So that it can tighten it’s hold around you.
You won’t be able to resist,
To fight it.
It won’t let you.
You’ll scream and plead,
You’ll try to disentangle yourself from it.
But it will cover you, smother you and shroud you,
Till you are nothing but an echo of your scream,
Nothing but an organised mess,
Nothing but an extension of nothingness.
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