the pristine creature of infinite melancholia
spreading the sense it preached...
this creature that never dies,
it plays around and around,now it,
defiled the wind with its doleful spores...
the rain in concert ,
lured me into the enticing wind,
it tainted my bliss with seeds of melancholy;
my bliss , tainted grey now,
I fell for this play and for the doleful spores,
hidden in the layers of time is what I seek to meliorate,
frozen in time I lay; Hidden,
is what I seek,in layers of time...
until I could rewind the clock,
Melancholia...
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