Calling Upon Quietus

Pounding.

Pounding.
Like a drum, I can hear the blood drubbing in my ears.
I can see the throbbing at my temples.
This cacophony of pain confines me
like thrashing rain against an unwavering trench.
Just let me die.

What use to me is the bile taste in my throat,
this aching in my breast?
My heart is not injured, yet it protests,
fighting as though it has power against the unseen.
Darkness, consume me.

Everything about me has warped - become contrary.
What was once a sweet lily is a rotten corpse.
The brilliant day blinds me - I hate the sun.
The melodies of Mozart, Wagner oppresses.
Release me.

It isn’t worth it.
All is vain.

Quietus, come quickly.


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Obviously, not my usual kind of poetry.

This is what a migraine feels like :).