TO THE DEPRESSED, GLADDEN FOR MY WORDS SOOTHS.

There’s fate in the unknown
A soul searching relief
Tired existing behind blurred glasses
That only reflect that which’s adorable
And deep in the sea concealing the reality

I guess it’s out of fear of the unknown
Trying to build an image worth embracing
But then does the inner you ever think tenfold;
Of the consequences of it’s actions too cruel?
I guess not
Or let’s assume it got no idea
Of the bruises she mounts day upon day on your innocence
So let me teach you a language of the pens
And a vivid lifestyle of the inks

Touch your sorrow soul
And spell a message of hope where none perhaps exists
Or
-if it does so in fear of guilt –

Arise
And let my words be an assurance
That there is life after a life
‘There’s always no good from a no good’
Depression ‘so not a food for a soul

But a wound so unrealising
That bites in bits
And like a meager of unbecomings,
It’s win seasons a loosing
A spell ought not to be cast

Realise there is sorrow in sorrow
Realised only when we sink deep
But then why lay your heart to the poorest of rewards?
When happiness costs you
I suggest you joy

My words are just like the medicine
but unprescribed;
Neither impressive nor promising
But in them there’s a bit of reality quite bitter
Laced with a touchy message
-my thought exactly –
I hope with the careless caress
You get a healing!

           ©Julias Arkadi

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