I think my soul
is sighing.
A gentle, low groan.
There's despair inside
but I cannot find it's source.
I sit, alone in my thoughts,
listless, empty
and incapable of action.
I'm a dark lighthouse
alone on a rocky shoreline,
a monument to a brightness
that faded long ago.
Where has the light gone?
Has the day lost it's sun,
the sky it's colour,
the wind it's warmth?
Grey clouds gather around my shoulders,
they weigh heavy on my mind
and I cannot escape their blandness.
Damn this day, it is wasting it's promise,
my anxious thoughts struggle
to find the key to normality.