I am sad
for the cherry trees in blossom
For their mother
cannot see their beauty
I fear the clouds oblivious
to darkened days to come,
Their presence creating
teardrops for a broken mind
Now morbid thoughts of death
swirl within me

The wet summer robbed
the birds of their song
And brought fever to their chicks
The Swallows left early
And abandoned the cold for warm sky.

The autumn onslaught
now brings death to many creatures
For the butterfly faces her last flight
And the wasp looks for one final sting.
Nature will not stop to save the weak
Her pact is to follow the sun
For she knows too that time
will eventually seal her fate

Now the voice of Depression
turns on me
Locking me in a labyrinth of questions
Searching for the one key
to release me.
My chaotic mind drowning
in psychotic riddles

What if a spirit could rise
above mortal expectations
Would this offend the dead?
Can reason value a tree
more than a flower?
Can I value a bird’s song
above a child’s cry?
Who can decide the colour of love,
the Poet or the painter?
And is there happiness
behind a clowns mask.
Where are the happy thoughts
of childhood?
They too all lost in riddles.

I search my mind to find fault,
for such thoughts
For my brain is now in a duel
with my conscience
Consider: does the Lion feel pity
for its prey
Consider if a mayfly
takes time for granted
And think about the lamb
born to be slaughtered
Or perhaps the fish caught out at sea
Do they feel hate for mankind,
Or is this truly a wonderful world

I have to look through your window now
For mine is broken
You are in the grasp of uncertainty too
Just a pause away from my world
For our differences are slight
I see your sanity
held together by Masquerade
No one truly shows themselves.
Your beliefs kept secret,
Sometimes given away by dreams,
Escaping in restless sleep.

So I will help you with answers
I hope you will never learn.
Can it be true that the best love poems
are written by those who never found it?
And can anyone really own the World
Its only when your love has gone,
The realisation comes, that you once did.

Console yourself in my final lament
For what we write today,
tomorrow you will remember.
So now I sleep,
in dreams jailed by a broken mind
Content that one day
the light will return.
I fear your recovery
might just take a little longer.