Songs Of Melancholy.

I listen to songs of melancholy in the dark,

as the rain washes over my home.

My home of hard earth and rocks,

has become soft puddles of brown cocoa.

 

The radio creaks every now and then,

but the emotion is alive,

biting in me, an overwhelm of salt,

a  sudden downpour from my eyes.

 

My lungs gasp for breath,

and throat coughs up phlegm

into a yellowed moist tissue

that can’t take anymore.

 

The dark awash with my black,

the black in my eyes,

the black in my soul,

the black rod that keeps my heart beating.

 

So many things, petrichor,

murder, blood, my eyes lulling

into an eternal sleep,

as my chest heaves into a big pull of air.

 

The speckless female voice

drenches my heart of this emotion

unknown, as she sings this string of notes,

blue as the sea, vast as the sea.

 

I will never understand this music,

so mysterious and quiet,

yet loud and obvious.

 

Riding in my heart,

like a lost lover.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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