Whispers of the Soul

Depression

Fading Dreams

In the quiet corners of the night,
Where aspirations used to gleam,
I trace the outlines of lost delight,
Whispers of a once-bright dream.

They danced like fireflies in my mind,
Igniting passion, painting skies,
But shadows creep, the stars unwind,
And hope flickers, then slowly dies.

Each day, I gather tattered threads,
Woven with wishes, frayed at the seam,
But the weight of doubt is a heavy dread,
Pulling down the fabric of my dream.

Once, they soared on wings of light,
Unfettered by the chains of fear,
But now they drift from grasping sight,
A fading echo, barely here.

I reach for them, but they slip away,
Like sand through fingers, lost in the breeze,
Moments of joy that once held sway,
Now ghosts that haunt and never appease.

Yet in this darkness, a spark remains,
A stubborn ember fighting the night,
In the heart of sorrow, a flicker of gains,
That whispers softly, "Keep up the fight."

Though dreams may fade, their essence clings,
In the depths of despair, a flicker ignites,
For even the night must yield to spring,
And in time, they may take flight.

So I hold the shadows, I cradle the pain,
Knowing that storms will eventually pass,
For hope can bloom in the coldest rain,
And dreams, though faded, are never brass.

With each dawn, a chance to revive,
To breathe life into ambitions anew,
For in the struggle, I learn to survive,
And find strength in the journey I pursue.