Poetry / Sullen

Sometimes sadness seeks you out
like a dirty minion doing the biddings of his evil master
prodding and poking his way into your happiness
only to suck out the last wisp of breath
extiguishing the golding flame of joy that burned once before
leaving in trade a damp and silten shallow grave
slowly, slowly filling with tears and fallen earth

And when that bastard enters your house and burns down your joy
you are to rise up and flick a spark once again
slowly blowing life back into the earth
for surely soon a flame will dwell again
Wisely you add more timber to regrow a burning passion of love, happiness, joy
with fury and sometime deperation, sometimes too eager sometimes to needy
quickly, quickly growing wildly with passion and vigor

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