I’m enjoying the simple beauty of sadness,
Much like the doleful tone made by a violin,
Something that pulls at your heart with gentle ache,
And releases it with silent relief.
Leaving your soul with that grace of a ghost,
freeing you from its deep possession,
and letting itself subside.

I do not relate the raging tide of grief,
which would drown the soul in its deluge.
Not of the black shadow of depression,
that consumes and engulfs all the light.
But instead I sit and listen to sadness,
a pitter-pattering emotion like raining,
and wait for the clouds to empty.