Melancholy

The reason for living, is a question we all ask.

Happiness, we all think, the everlasting goal for breathing.

My soul sways inside me, flowing it’s darkness around me.

Pensive with a purpose, I can confirm that it’s my state of mind.

Shall we call it depression, when it’s truly just melancholy.

Comfortable in my gloominess, which is there for no apparent reason.

Taking pleasure in my dismal state, while I’m stuck in my thoughts.

However, let’s not mistake this for hopelessness.

As there is hope in every thought.

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