There's a question
That is very good
At thrusting me into overthinking seas:
"What was the meaning of this incident?"
\\
And so
My cranium encloses
Yet another beautiful image
Of unrelenting thoughtful waves crashing
Against the walls of my skull.
Tidal waves attempting to ring Anxiety's door bell
And delineate a slender path
For depression to slither through.
\\
But today...
It's different
The waves are beautiful today
And they are not going trigger pain:
Instead
They bless my neurons
With epiphanies
And trace smiles on my face
As an aftermath of
Eureka moments.
YOU ARE READING
Writer's Whispers
PoetryIt's only at night that you hear the faint whispers of the writer's pen trailing paper. [COMPLETED]