Tearing eyes filled with sorrow
Heart sinking, full of harrow
Once again, black hole prevails
Listen close . . . to silent wails
Torment creeps, unsuspected.
Dark, my thoughts, resurrected.
What ill deed, did I inflict,
That gloom’s cloud over me picked?
Groping blind, searching in dark
Inner core. My soul is stark.
Hoping for small gleam of light
Scare away mares of the night.
Cannot break away from strife,
Though often it pains my life.
Leave me now, to my sorrow
May mood lift, ‘pon the ‘morrow.
– – June Nash