Gothic Poetry: A Collection of Dark Poems

Melancholia at My Door

Oh, joyless drum that beats a saddened song

on this day when I wish to rejoice and love.

Instead I feel unwelcomed; only Melancholia answers my call.

I begin to stand, my hand cuts through the wind as I open the door,

and I realize I hear nothing-It's all in my head

I hear nothing, until a silent voice is heard

saying, "all sad songs are known in a quiet hurt unheard."

I pay no mind, my inability to listen, or to cry.

Who gives thanks to all things given, when all that is given is time?

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