poem
The Black Dog
Always around
In the quietest hours,
when the world has turned its face to the moon,
he comes, the Black Dog.
He is not a creature of fangs and fury,
but a silent spectre that pads softly into your mind.
His inky coat black as the night,
blends with the darkness around him.
His presence is subtle,
a gentle pressure on your consciousness,
like the weight of a thousand feathers.
A whisper of despair that starts soft and low,
but grows ever louder,
echoing in the caverns of your mind.
You reach out,
trying to touch the vestiges of happiness you once knew,
but the Black Dog stands guard, vigilant and unwavering.
He turns joy to ashes, hope to dust,
painting your world in shades of sorrow.
He is the embodiment of your deepest fears,
a chilling personification of the sorrow
that gnaws relentlessly at your soul.
He is a relentless pursuer,
a constant companion, always lurking in the shadows.
His eyes, cold and empty,
reflect the world in shades of grey.
In his gaze, you see your own reflection,
distorted and shrouded in shadows of doubt and fear.
You try to run, to escape the Black Dog’s relentless pursuit,
but he is a spectre that knows no bounds.
He is always there, a dark figure
lurking at the edges of your world,
a constant reminder of your internal struggle.
Against the tide,
against the storm,
against the Black Dog,
you rally, you shout, you rage against the despair that he sows within you.
You seek help, you seek support,
desperately grasping for a lifeline in the darkness.
And for a moment, just a fleeting moment,
the Black Dog recedes.
You breathe a sigh of relief,
foolishly thinking you’ve outrun him, outsmarted him.
But he is patient, the Black Dog.
He waits in the shadows, his time always coming.
When you least expect it, he returns,
and you are plunged once again
into the depths of despair.
But still, you fight.
You find strength in the darkness,
resilience in the face of despair.
Because while the Black Dog may be a constant companion,
he does not define you.
You are more than that,
more than the darkness that he brings.
You are strong, resilient, a fighter, capable of great things.
And so, even as the Black Dog pads softly at your side,
you continue to move forward.
You navigate the world through his spectral fog,
your steps slow but determined.
You live, you laugh, you love.
You experience, you learn, you grow.
Because the Black Dog is part of you,
but he is not all of you.
He does not control you,
he does not own you.
And in that realization,
you find your hope,
your resistance,
your will to endure,
to fight,
to live.
