Melancholia!
there's magic in the word
like 'male-genitalia',
each syllable unslurred

and the term itself
what images it conjures!
as a mischievous elf
intent on misadventures

with a black, sticky net
'gainst crimson sunset
with sad secrets scary
to capture the unwary

on his face a grin
as he bows to you low,
"howdy, please step right in"
and oblivious, you go.

and then you are caught
as he draws the string tight
as you struggle for naught
as the day becomes night

as all outside becomes blurred
all syllables slurred
everything of one colour,
a dark, deathlike pallor

and then there's the sinking
as you can't stop the thinking
like repetitive gramophone
with monotonous undertone
over and over
it draws you in further,

to no appetite
complete lack of enjoyment,
to no respite
through own self-employment

feeling culpable
for nothing at all,
feel unlovable
as you stare at blank wall.

Melancholia.
What a beautiful word.