The Saddest Seas

Cynical Wordsmith

To those who suffer
From despressive states:
I know your base existence.
I share your mental predispositions.

It’s not a constant sadness,
At least not at first.
It’s a cancer,
A living, growing thing.
It feeds off of moments
And it’s not the host’s fault.
There are treatments,
Drugs, and therapy,
But there is no cure,
Just a gentle staving off.
You sail the seas of life,
With natural highs,
Natural lows,
And a plethora of whirlpools.
You start at the brim,
And the winds of fate
Gently push you
In.
The downward spiral begins,
The light seems further away.
Hope slips
And the struggle intensifies.
With water on all sides
You forget how the surface appears,
And all you know
Is the darkest depths.

It will swallow you,
If you let it.
The sea will still flow
As if you never were.
But there is always hope,
Even with…

View original post 93 more words

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.