Crumbling Poem by grace mariner

There is a condemned museum.
It exists in the mind shaft of my once brilliant mind.
It's hours of operation vary upon the maudlin nature of my character.
Contrary to everyone's belief, I don't like my existence in these dark dungeons,
but I cannot seem to escape from my self imposed captivity.
I journey down that rocky path that goes deeper within my great depression.
The ghosts and demons dwell here in fragmented pieces,
illuminated one by one as I pass.
Not all of the images are foreboding.
Many are from happier moments...
births, loves, times of great joy, bittersweet in their loss or transformation.
But the symmetry of our existence requires the proper balance
of sadness if only to assure that we can know their difference.
The depressed mind cannot escape the intermingling of the two.
Darkness always obscures light in this diseased mind.
Within these dark corridors, all becomes sadness as the gains
become losses and the losses infinite.
One year ago today, I asked for prayers to save us.
Four months ago today I am without you.
You exist, illuminated by what is left of my passion and
desire for you, for your return to me.
I avoid this journey but at times I succumb to its calling
and I venture there.
But as timbers crack and the shaft decays, there is hope for
light to return to this dysthymic brain.
Until then, I must visit and reconcile my losses, especially the
loss of you.