A Shallow Melancholy

A shallow melancholy caught me in the labyrinth of torment and insomnia. My heart was pierced and disheartened by senseless whirlwinds of despair and anguish. I didn’t know where I was headed, but I could only feel a tremendous intimidation inside myself. A vast, gloomy shadow couldn’t allow me to see beyond the horizon. I had no destination, and it seemed that I had no free choice to escape from that doomed fate of mine. The haze was so dense, and the night was so dark that I couldn’t find any portal to allow me to leave. I screamed to the stars, but they refused to listen to my voice, and I was cast away from their gaze for eternity. The everlasting darkness granted me the utmost agony, and sorrow lulled me to a deadly slumber. So much I cherished my dreams, nevertheless, they vanished into the ashes of decay. Solitude and loneliness had spellbound me with their sombre and mournful enchantment. In a mystic aura, I was viscously bound to a magical realm of lost spirits and wicked wraiths, which whispered their laments to my ears. I knew not who I had become and what my name was. So much confused and chaotic was the state of my heart that it sank deeply into the abyss of devastation. I fell into ecstasy and bliss, enjoying my obliteration and every cut inflicted upon my body. Wounded and frantic, I shed tears of pleasure and delight. My sobs and sighs broke the solemn silence that was my most loyal companion in that kingdom of death and mortification. Frenzy squished me, and madness shattered my heart. I embraced the bitter emptiness, hovering like an ethereal creature in search of witchy dungeons and secret forests. And there were no beginnings nor ends in the domain of the shallow melancholy. I remained suspended from ropes, which led me into my perpetual descent. And I lay there, claimed by the hereafter.
Elisabetta Esther