Cumulonimbus
The black cloud is coming
I feel it faintly at first like
the drops of rain before a storm
the harbinger
of possibilities
that no-one wants
Then it fades and I breathe
it's not coming today
but soon it's back
I can feel the icy fingers
dragging at my soul
I want to fight
I know I must
for the sake of others as much as me
But part of me welcomes it
Bringing its self loathing
Its doubts and fears
and smothering me with them
Inside the cloud you
see only yourself
the rest is noise
You can only wait
and function, or not,
until it decides to go
Drifting away and
revealing the light
the joy of life can slowly return
as melancholy is banished
until the next time
the unwanted guest
creeps slowly into your mind
(c) Tim Fellows 2017
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