Christian Eliab Ratnam
My heart upon weak shoulders I carry,
My soul evaporates by the hour.
I observe the times, cold and dreary,
Every second saps natural power.
Silence both kills and revives me,
The air my breath takes away.
Everything seems distant and foggy,
Despair inches closer by the day.
Each night brings much promise of happiness,
I scarce can close my eyes.
Morning brings forth restlessness,
Misery comes alive.
I cannot put my finger to,
What disappoints me so.
For life is but a fleeting thing,
Suspense it takes in tow.
I look for what I cannot find,
I find what I hate,
Tricks of the meanest kind,
My heart burns and aches.
Copyright © Christian Eliab Ratnam 2012
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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Comments about this poem (Despair by Christian Eliab Ratnam )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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