Day of All Saints

I can feel depressive colums coming up
Early darkness scarying away the brightness
I can feel the need for coffee and candlelight
Sweet dreams of summer replaced by nothingness

I can feel the drowning of positive views
Rats and mise nestling in the attic for the obvious
I can feel the energie leaving thru fingertips
Black thoughts before reality, it seems ridiculous

I can feel that yearly beginning of the winter war
Realizing the foolishness of my sadness
I can feel the evil in flames of burning wood
wandering around in a surreal wilderness

I can feel the need for writing it all down
A day of all Saints, without any holiness
I can feel that force to close the curtains
Back in that cocon, maybe it’s just selfishness

I can feel the weakness of a worried mind
Nervous about the manipulated consciousness
I can feel the support and she’s very kind
Just can’t seem to handle all the tenderness