Untitled, n = 1,964
There's a hunger in the darkness,
that feeds upon my heart.
I heal the wounds with moonlight,
and the sweat of working hard.
I limp into the sunlight
and find the path I carve;
but the darkness is inside me,
and the light just makes it starve.
Ravenous, it trips me,
with pebbles made of dust.
I stumble back to darkness,
kicking up a fuss.
Perhaps that is my problem,
as I love what I must fight.
Can I feed the hunger,
while walking through the light?
n = 1,964; February 16th, 2017
Notes
Trying to reconcile my desires for depression and happiness. The desire/addiction to depression seems the worst when I am happy for a long time. Moonlight here is a metaphor for Zen, via Taoism, and Red Pine's theory that Taoism is moon worship.
Previous Poem: Untitled, n = 1,916 | Poetry Blog | Untitled, n = 1,980
