Depression, Poetry

The Black Hawk

Everyday used to be a walk in the park.
Everything was calm, no sudden attacks from the vicious hawk.
All I could see was the lush green trees.
I was walking on sunshine, but it was only momentarily.

The skies suddenly darkened right in front of me.
A violent wave came crashing down this fantasy.
The illusion of a face full of smile,
The illusion that I was happy.
Now I realize that being blissful isn’t my style.
The Black Hawk pulled me back to reality.

As I lay surrounded by the rubbles of my mirage,
I saw that everything was dark
And I soon realized there was a void in my heart.
My colorful paradise has turned into a rusty barge,
Carrying me off to somewhere very, very far.

At this moment, I can only see the Black Hawk.
It watches over me with a dull and lifeless gawk.


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