For The Black Dog Bites Severely

 

For all those we know and love.  May they find peace and vigour again.

 

For The Black Dog Bites Severely

For some the Black Dog bites severely,

Smiting in an awful wound;

The cost to victims is dearly,

As they may feel sorely doomed.

 

The bite may infect like rabies,

And take a diabolic toll;

Turning certitudes to maybes,

As it eats at body, mind and soul.

 

And we, we try to tend them,

To bring the balm of cheer;

Apply the discipline of listening,

A focussed, compassionate ear.

 

It may take medication,

To bring the chemical mix to still;

And it takes love and dedication,

To bandage their battered will.

 

And so we send these words out,

To the one’s we know by name;

And to all their suffering companions,

Who feel much the same.

 

May they receive the treatment,

The best care all can give;

For we want them all to flourish,

And again to fully live.

 

 

Simon C.J. Falk 18 October 2016

Across the Dim Threshold and Back

Across the Dim Threshold and Back

What do they feel
When that time comes for them?
When all seems too much
And the weight of their world
Weighs wearily on their shoulders.
Is it simply a fault
In the delicate dynamic
Of brain electro-chemistry?
Or have life’s lessons
Just been more than they can bear?

I am the voice of failure
I speak in whiney monotone
I follow your mistakes
And haunt you when alone.

What turns the tide for them?
What makes it all too much?
When the daily drudgery of getting up
Becomes all too hard.
When answering that mail,
Taking that call,
Making that appointment,
Seems too much burden,
Or too futile
In the pain
Which pendulums between numb and ache.

I am the voice of apathy
Depression fills my days
I drain the marrow from your life
In many little ways.
And before you know it
I take away your zeal
I hold your energy captive
Till nothing can you feel.

What then makes some end it?
What steels their resolve?
Is it the sheer necessity?
The only way to escape
Across the dim threshold?
What then leads others back
From that deep, dark dungeon of despair?
Is it love for others?
The not wanting to punish others
For our own pain?

I am the voice of honesty
I stand and eyeball pain
I look into its darkest depths
Searching for its name.
I sit as an observer
In a firm but empathetic gaze
I draw the dark out to the sun
That it be examined by the rays.
And when the rays have warmed it
And cast out all the chill
I hand your life back to you
To your measured, tempered will.

Simon C. J. Falk 10 June 2014

 

One early death or person with depression is too many. We all know them. At times, we are them.  This poem points towards some of the experiences and observations gathered  along the way. It contains no definitive plan or answer. It merely offers some wisdom gleaned from life experience and shares it in both free verse and rhyme.

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