Melancholia
by Maria Corcoran
How many lifetimes has it been
Since the sun sank into sleep?
How long have I warred within
This mind with ravines abyss-deep?
There is an end to everything
But will my will be first to die?
Would I even care for spring
If all my rivers have run dry?
It only makes the truth hurt worse
When your strength is born in lies
So, I know better than to hope
For better things and better times
(Yet when hope fills my head
Only then do I know deep inside
Though my heart is cold and dead
It still yearns to feel alive)
Since the sun sank into sleep?
How long have I warred within
This mind with ravines abyss-deep?
There is an end to everything
But will my will be first to die?
Would I even care for spring
If all my rivers have run dry?
It only makes the truth hurt worse
When your strength is born in lies
So, I know better than to hope
For better things and better times
(Yet when hope fills my head
Only then do I know deep inside
Though my heart is cold and dead
It still yearns to feel alive)
Maria Corcoran is an emerging poet inspired by classical Gothic literature. Her work is theatrical, unworldly, and musical, owing to her fondness for traditional and rhyming verse. Currently, she is working on a grim poetry collection of circus performances gone awry.