[NOTE: This is my first tangible attempt at poetry! I am sure it lacks the cadence, tempo, and perhaps rhyming rythm of good poems, but I figured it would be good to write some poem than no poem. Keep that in mind and be gentle with the feedback! It’s a description of what a person feels in the midst/throws of a melancholic deluge, and I wrote it in a contemplative/melancholic mood.]
It lasts but for a few minutes,
Enveloping you in a cocoon of misery,
The intense pain hits like waves of a choppy sea,
ebbing and flowing, pulsating and undulating.
Your fists close, your teeth clench,
Your fingers grasp anything in reach,
Your body contorts into a curled ball,
Your mind likewise a jumbled web of knots.
A torrential gush of emotions,
A deluge of tears left in its wake,
Emptying you of the sickening pain,
Until there’s nothing left but a numbing void.
You are caught – rather stuck – in the deep mesh of agony,
That infinitesimal span of time when everything ceases to matter,
Except for the warring splintered factions of your own psyche,
The internal skirmishes bending your mind into an impossible topology,
Causing your breath to come and go in gasps and bursts,
Each morsel of air consumed and expunged like a knife plunged and removed.
The storm passes, the clouds dissipate,
The gusts of windy emotions now just a faint whisper,
An eerie calmness, a pressure void, descends on you,
Relief washing over you, and yet True Serenity strangely elusive.
A few deep breaths, a dozen rushed gulps of water,
The full force of the agonizing moments of cleansing catharsis,
Now evident by the pronounced sense of serenity you feel,
A well-earned calm after enduring a destructive storm.
Those terrifying and visceral moments of pure anguish,
Had almost managed to beat you down to a final surrender,
You had let go of yourself emotionally and unconditionally,
To the cyclical ritual of catharsis at the hands of a mystical internal force.
But while the emotional self abdicated it’s throne,
The psychological self, the primal will-to-live hadn’t lost it’s grip,
You benefit from touching the abyss, and peering into the darkness,
It leaves you all the more stronger and cleaner, Looking forward to the journey up,
To breach the surface, and perhaps even transcend it to the Zenith.
And yet … for all the gritted teeth, bare-knuckled resilience,
You shudder to think – of the just-eclipsed terrifying moment of anguish .