Former illness
It seems as though the world is different,
It seems as though its not the same.
The life I know is gone and passed,
and now there is only pain.
The trees which used to bloom are leaf-less,
The sky is dark and gray.
...And a mind is bound in chains
A prisoner to the endless winter inside my mind.
Which haunts me as I walk, as I sleep, as I talk.
A prisoner waiting for a release date.
A winter waiting for spring.
This poem is about:
Me