I wrote this poem back in March, at the tail end (no pun intended) of a particularly difficult depressive episode… I feel life beginning to weigh heavily on me again right now, and I feel my black dog hot on my heels, hounding me once more… Can I outrun him this time? Who knows…
The Black Dog…
Devouring all in its path
The black dog bites deep and grips tight.
It leaves you flayed and exposed,
Ripped ragged through to bare bone.
You endure, raw and ravaged until
insensible with pain you cease to feel.
Nothing stirs but shattered echoes
And whispers of what once was.
You heal in time, though jagged scars
Run deep through your damaged soul.
But still it stays close – a shadow demon
Suppressed, prowling and pacing.
It haunts you, it hungers after you,
Skulking and stalking.
And in your darkest dreams you feel its pall
As the black dog hunts you still…