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Depression

I feel a lump in my throat.
No.
It is much deeper and much more intense.

There is a blackness in my soul.
It is a consuming emptiness eating away at the edges of my being
Pulling what I once believed was my very core
Into fragments,
Making shadowy pieces out of a person that I once knew.
Me.

Now only a remnant
Of a man,
That once was considered good…even great by some
Who by their own admissions, may have had a jaded eye
Yet still…by some. A good man.

There is a darkness within my heart.
A vessel which has sailed into a vast unknown sea.
Uncharted and unrelinquishing in its grasp
Pulling in one direction
Away from the familiar to some foreign destination

Pulled inexorably by forces which are driven
By a numbness which consumes…smiles…and laugther…and happiness.
Which consumes life.

How can I explain what this feels like?
When the passion for life ebbs like a tide forever going out
Chased away by the power of some object – that hangs distant and unattached.
As I stare at pictures flashing upon a screen or through images passing in my mind of
Memories.

Memories that once meant so much,
But now hold so little.

I feel a lump in my throat.
I do not know what it is
But it has an acrid taste,
A bitterness,
A vileness,
Yet it calls to me to imbibe in its flavor
Like a bittersweet candy.

It whispers to me to sample its rare elixir,

A mix of darkness, without the knowledge of light.
An emptiness, without the enlightenment of fullness
A cloak hanging upon no shoulders.

A taste of Death.