In the darkest depths of February
I sat in front of the light
I cleared my head and tried to sort out
Why things never seem to be right
Why every year slips through my hands
Only microns closer to my dreams
Why I’m constantly stuck doing things
That keep me locked in this routine
In deepest darkest February
I battled all the ghosts
And demons spooks and goblins
That plague me least and most
All these dark forces compel me
To sap my own primal energy
That’s better used toward creative ends
I’ve become my own worst enemy.
December is the darkest month
But February is the bleakest
Just raw cold, depression, doldrums
That leave you at your weakest
28 days in the tunnel
Waiting for the light at the end
Long night’s journey into the day
When I hope my soul will be cleansed
In slowest coldest February
Somehow I manage to cope
‘Cause in the strangest way I’ve received a sign
And there’s a way to grasp at hope
This phase that I’m in the throes of
Is only temporary
These negative influences
Will be gone like February
©2024 The Hesh Inc.
Seasonal affective disorder is very real. But at least I have been able to make art out of it. Not (yet) recorded or performed.