The Weight
A poem
There are days when the mind feels leaden,
an iron shackle clamped tight.
The world becomes grey, colors bleeding away
into a dull monochrome devoid of joy or hope.
Thoughts grow distorted, twisted by invisible forces
into unrecognizable phantoms of dread and despair.
It descends like a shroud, this darkening of the mind.
It whispers lies of worthlessness.
Crushed by the weight of its vicious gravity,
the soul yearns to break free of the chains within,
but there is still light, faintly glimmering.
A stubborn spark that will not die.
Breathe deep, turn your face to the sun,
let its warmth touch your skin, and slowly thaw the ice.
The shadow will lift, this heaviness will pass.
You are more than the grey, you will rise once again.
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