Goddess of Depression

victor nazaranko goddess of depression

Portray yourself as you will
like the night
like the darkness
you are a liar
Goddess of Depression you may deceive
you may wrap yourself in robes of ebony
and pretend a mystery
but you are colorless
merely a sterile landscape
hopeless, charmless,
obscuring the light
the future
a roaming beast , a dog
searching for another you can fasten leech-like upon
to pull the cork and let the joy drain away into the
anemic sand
Goddess of Depression, you are no deity
although you crown yourself with gilt and flimsy rhetoric
you have nothing more than any aging harlot
paint and perfume and magic potions cannot disguise
the paper flowers and mirrors
perhaps a cheap parlor trick
or two
which is all you have to convince those held in your thrall
that they can do no more.

*artwork by victor nazaranko*


About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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