Was I heard

Today was chaos

It twisted and turned

I spoke a lot

But was I heard?

Brain Mires

Unable to trust

My senses now

Delusions made real

An eternal row

Between my worries

And all my doubts

To my hopes

A pointless bout

So all that is left is

Do what I know

The only option

Is to let go

I don’t mean of life

Despite its pains

I mean the mires

Inside my brain

Mind Storm

Thoughts gust and billow,

The sails of consciousness.

Tearing down equanimity,

Whipping up despondency.

Mind is tossed and turned.

Finding no fine calmness,

No quiet act of divinity;

Can settle and let it be.

Yearning for the solace,

Lost in squall’s madness.

Cyclone’s destructive proclivity,

to disturb a sense of decency.

Then the worst is over, leaving

persistent rains of sadness.

Mind’s cyclone bows to gravity,

& battered, but lucid you see.

It was simply passing weather

The awesome greatness,

Of melancholy’s audacity,

Obsolete to patience’s key

Future’s Beckoning

Future’s beckoning,

Time’s reckoning.

Melancholy threatens,

Peace deadened.

Conquering fear,

Living right here.

Finishing tasks,

Doing what’s asked.

Vanquish despondency,

Averting tragedy.

Becoming complete,

Understated, discrete.