Sadness,
Beckons,
Waiting,
And it consumes,
A bitter taste of memory and joy long lost,
And almost sweet,
But never quite there.
It is the most desired of emotions,
Or why would all art evoke it,
In different degrees,
Knowing that this dark taste in my mouth is SWEET,
Though bitter in reality.
It looms,
Lurching over the heart and enveloping the brain,
In a hazy fever of reflection.
Sadness is that most strange of emotions,
Desired and hated and feared,
Melancholy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem