The void,
Its emptiness, fills my sense of self with nothing
Dark , its expanse as the midnight sky
Rules my emotions, like a king
I fight with the darkness for a sweet escape,
but it tones down to just a futile try.

Come one, come all, it’s happening again
Pushing away people, as I make my descent
I walk down the dammed lane
The blood moon forming a crescent.

Tantalising thoughts howl like a wolf at the moon
The feed on my trepid soul
The darkness is devoured, a void left like a boon.
Wandering through the road, with not a goal.

A flicker of hope,
Then lends you a rope.
It beams you up, a classic Trope.
It fills your void with what you think is good,
But you drown in water like no one should.
Drowning makes me breathe again, a fresh new perspective.
Frau Trude works like an antiseptic.