The artwork is provided by my friend Shellie Summers
The stars are ready
The night is clear
Through eons of Nyx
They quickly appear
All crowd to witness
The flight of paper things
____
Paper wings in moonlit skies
How Boldly
They soar over heaven
Wings reflected beneath them.
So Lonely
The space between stars
so few take the leap
Diving into the night
Chasing paper dreams
Woefully
Reaching through the stars
yet never making it
However
This is the way some think
Thus they drown in heaven
never reaching the stars
I like to describe depression as a series of conversations, sweet-talking me towards my own demise.
The paper wings represent a hope that is frail and mortal. A mortal hope will die a mortal death; it is the way of mortal things. Immortal things never die, and thus hope in immortal things becomes immortal.
Diving into the night, seduced by Shinigami. At times placing hope in a destination, only death seems to know the way towards.
Beneath the depths of its power and with a soft voice, it reveals the way to heaven, "Breathe deeply."
Depression is not a good friend; it lies more than it speaks the truth. Sometimes I wonder, "Who is Depression? Is he the bastard son of Hope? Am I afflicted with a hope disorder?" and the silence keeps me guessing. I have theories for days, but they are just theories.
Anyhow, thanks for reading whatever this is. Have a good day, y'all.
Comments
Post a Comment