Bipolar Life- The Art of Dark

It is in the quiet recesses, cleverly disguised

Where solace exists behind tired eyes.

And alone is a vacation

Memories are tired dreams

Pain numbed by trials

Sad is sad as it seems.

When the light has dimmed considerably,

Gray hues abound.

The shadows betray the darkness

As they bounce all around.

Slowly you see it fade away,

The light will soon be gone.

Adjusting seems easy

Darkness comes forth in its ritual song.

There is beauty here, hidden from day.

Silence inviting in a melancholy way.

Peace encompasses the chaos of mind

Dark envelops the beast of daytime light.

Gone are expectations that day ushers in.

Gone is the forced living I find no energy to begin.

Gone is the hurt, the sea of rolling waves.

I am free to be weak and release the brave.

There is more to the dark than dark.

For those who struggle in mind.

It comforts me with repetition

I gives new breath and sight.

I relax my senses, listening to the beat of my heart.

I cherish the time alone, admiring the art of dark.


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