The Clouds of Mourning – A Poem About Depression and Pain


As we go through life, there are inevitable seasons where it seems the skies are always cloudy, always raining, and the forecast will never change. Anyone that has ever dealt with depression (or any mental illness for that matter) knows that it is like a ghost that haunts you no matter where you go or how hard you try to hide from it. Fight all you want, but you can never defeat the forces of darkness with strength alone. In these times of darkness and pain, how do we keep moving forward? How do we resist the temptation to give up and let the pain of life suck everything from our soul?

Typically, telling yourself to “cheer up”, “suck it up”, “pick yourself up”, or having someone else tell you to stop feeling sorry for yourself only makes matters worse, and I believe does a disservice to our heart. Deep depression is not an easy thing to fix, and the reality is that sometimes there are circumstances in our lives where the only appropriate response is to mourn and cry. And sometimes we need that time to just embrace the issue and recognize that it is ok to feel pain. But how do we not drown in that pain?

I believe the only way we can move forward is by grasping hope and refusing to let go. It might not get better today, it might not be tomorrow, but as long as there is hope that things will get better, the ghosts of depression are unable to penetrate our locked doors and totally possess us.

The Clouds of Mourning – A Poem About Depression and Pain

The clouds of mourning
Hang and hover over me
Like ghosts – translucent,
Yet allowing only darkness to pass through.
Their pale gray sheets flap and flutter
In the breezes of life,
Dimming and drowning out
All traces of light.
Their wails send nails
Falling from the sky,
Raining down and driving like hammers;
Pounding their melancholic clamors into my heart.

My palette is stained,
Soaked in ashen gray paint.
Non-washable, permanent and persistent;
Resistant to the colors I attempt to cover with my brush.
The clouds of mourning
Flood my skies like ghastly Dementors,
Following me through the hours
And sucking at my soul one minute at a time.

Sweet angels,
Have you lost the fight to the terrors?
Have your hallowed halos burnt out like smoking embers
And lost their luster and glow?
Where are you hiding
In this dark and stormy night?
Where are your shields and swords,
Why are you overwhelmed by the demons of darkness,
Why do you refuse to fight?

What weapons do I pick up
To fend off forces invisible and invincible?
Is there an amulet I can hang over my heart to keep out
The ghouls that pass uninhibited through locked doors?
The icy rain covers my window pane
In sheets of tears running down in streams of solitude.
Winter’s wrath bars my path
And leaves me shivering in the cold wondering what to do.
The clouds of mourning
Hang and hover over me
Like ghosts – translucent,
But hope shall be my exorcism.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley


photo credit: Titanic via photopin (license)

If Only … – A Love Poem

crow in winter on a log

If Only …

– A Love Poem

If there was a way to pluck my beating heart from my chest,
I’d let you have it. Just to give you the comfort
Of knowing you could crush it at a moment’s notice,
Just so you wouldn’t feel so vulnerable, so weak, so full of fear.

If I could bind my arms and legs up in chains
Just to assure you that I’ll never leave,
Well, I’d be happy to be your slave, call you master,
If it’d make you feel less afraid.

If I could seal my lips shut
After I promise that my love is true,
Just so you know I can never take it back
Well…I’d do that too.

If I could cover myself in filth and reopen my every scar
Just so you wouldn’t feel so dirty,
I’d surely jump at the chance if I knew
That it would help you.

But I can’t.
And it’s killing me.
That my words carry no weight.
For they are the tongue of my heart,
Written with the ink of my tears
And etched with love’s bitter sting.
Without trust, love has no breath to sing.

So what now, my poor heart?
Are there any tricks left up your sleeve?
Any way of breaking the barriers of this madness?
Any way of convincing, so we don’t have to leave?

Oh, my poor, broken heart,
Can’t we just set these silly testimonies aside?
Can’t you read the truth, my love
When it’s written within my eyes?

Do not feel guilty for the thorns
You’ve stuck in my side.
But won’t you please pluck them out!
Don’t make me say good-bye.

photo credit: Crow attack via photopin (license)