The Falling Maples- Living Unconditionally- Poetry by S.S

Let me in your oceans, Or fall into my seas, the depth of glum and misery, is as akin as it can be, From the lonely morrows, to the nagging twilights, Where the two world meet, in an otherworldly jamboree, There, midst the peculiar spree, Let me in your oceans, Or fall into my seas.......

Unfailingly, Like morning's first rays of the Sun, You fall upon me, gathering my pieces, Completing, what remains undone, And as the dusk comes calling, You don the cape of the Moon, Soothing with the loner's gaze, the impassioned marks, of the inflamed burn....... S.S

They say 'Depression is a fashion', While they see those grins and laughs and smirks, 'neath the clabbered disguise of which, Is a random disquiet and a persistent agitation, That moment when the struggle isn't to survive, but to merely achieve that much sought sleep, And when one says "I feel a clamorous commotion", They say "Oh, but depression is just a fashion!" There are those nights, when to breathe itself is a battle, in that dead air,  when discorded molecules within, unstoppably hustle, The seconds and minutes and hours, all seem like days, refusing to budge, triumphantly dominating that deepening phrenic haze. And when one's silence shrieks "Help me! I am fading in this convulsion!" They say, "Oh come on, depression is just a fashion!" Then there's the inadequacy of trust, for each face in  the crowd, is nothing, but a face beneath a face, beneath another face, And when these faces meld with life's afflictive