Why do you come here, is it for the gloom?
For the restless shadows of my darkened room,
I’ll make no apology, for I prefer to write,
With words of melancholy that arrive like night.
Over softened themes dressed up in colourful bloom,
Where joy survives untouched by grief or doom,
I’ve seen everything colourful eventually lose lustre.
It does have a place, but it won’t pass my muster.
My mind drifts dim where others shine bright,
Here, darkness looms never far from sight,
Even as a young boy, I could never bring,
As Poe wrote, my passions from a common spring.
My mind can be dreary and abnormally bleak,
And I prefer others to use light and flowery speak,
But if like me you find some comfort in gloom,
Stay with me a while here, in my dark little room.
Dan Verkys 