Anatomy of a Mood-Swing

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You sit in there, pleasantly,
like a blooming flower.
Everything, at least, seems to be perfect;
But nothing is, indeed, deep inside.

As you sense the faked up reality,
in the back of your mind,
A faint whisper of turbulence sets in.

And that’s how everything starts,
all of a sudden, out of the blue,
Dragging your spirits into the blues. 

An unfamiliar sense of 
unwell-being strikes you.
A wave of wily gloom
embraces you unwillingly. 

An inexplicable longing for solitude 
slithers in silently.
An inexpressible rage to scream
builds up violently.

A cloudburst of apathy 
drenches you under its sympathy. 
high inside your vacuous soul. 

The will to live vanishes,
as its foe flourishes,
 leaving behind a void 
and vapors of confusion.

All these relentless tides of emotions 
Knocks on your doors of peace 
and leaves you in pieces

That scary transition 
In just a matter of seconds
questions your sanity
and piles up to your vanity.

Yet you try to smoke out the cause
But you are blind as a bat
Neither you can see,
Nor you can feel. 

That’s how you fall, 
and yet claim to be fine. 

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