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Array
(
[sid] => 158669
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Well Of Depression
[time] => 2010-04-05 06:13:43
[hometext] => I suffered a breakdown which subdivided my persona into two distinct individuals - one who had given up and one desperate to survive. This poem attempts to show how the two come together to defeat the depression and virtual schizophrenia.
[bodytext] => The Well Of Depression Two wells, two people, two cages. One illness ignored throughout the ages. One is huddled, scared and frightened. The other, prowling, emotions heightened. Darkness prevails, a blanket of despair In panic both chests struggle, crave for air. One is so passive yet the other active, A man broken and one who wants to live. He huddles, arms clasped around his knees He calls on god to ease, appease The pain, the lethargy, the shame, he feels, But darkness, silence witness his appeals. The other prowls like a shackled beast Circling his cage his rage unleashed. He stumbles blindly, arms outstretched Escape upon his mind, firmly etched. What hope for these two souls, disparate and in pain? As a veil of tears falls down as torrential rain. Has God abandoned them in their hour of need? Or is salvation within them, a sterile seed? Remaining still he watches the rain, The tears from his eyes fall just the same. He hates himself and prepares to die His life a chore, not real, a lie. Eventually he finds the wall. The rain drives down but he does not fall. Hand over hand he follows it round The pounding downpour the only sound. The water now surrounds his waist He looks aloft and pleas for haste. The darkness now is no longer colour, But palpable and begins to smother. Circling round and round the flooding floor He sought in vain an escape, a door. Reality struck, he was too young And he raised both hands and found the rung. What is to happen to these two in peril? The one, distraught with his heart and soul sterile. Does God charge the other to drive and to strive Or is the power within to live and survive? The waters rose, he waited death He longed to take that final breath. All will, all hope was now despair He longed for total lack of air. The rungs were rough and rusted red From other souls who’d climbed and bled. He knew then now that this was right To move, to drive, believe and fight. Self-loathing, hatred, low esteem Flowed through him like the growing stream. He blamed himself for all things past, Prepared to be at peace at last. At the top he dragged himself clear. Yet no relief just dreadful fear. He knew there still was work to do To help, to save, to rescue, who? What is to happen to these two in peril? The one now saved yet in truth just still as ill. What of the one prepared to take his last breath A tortured soul who only craves a lonely death? He looks into the Stygian darkness Descends the ladder without stress. He knows his life depends on this So with haste he enters the abyss. He hears the voice yet can’t believe Why me, why now, cannot conceive? Hands drag him clear of the water. A lamb released from the slaughter. He struggled upward, dragged aloft The other’s voice encouraged, soft. Escaping from the well of death He drew a long uncertain breath. It was some time before they woke And even more before they spoke. Two people, a mirror image Connected by a mental bridge. What is to happen to those two in peril? Well nothing from Our Lord or from the Devil. The negative and the positive are now one And both live in symbiotic union. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 168 [topic] => 61 [informant] => aliopterix [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => selfstruggles )
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