Richard Candy

I open the door to the great song of depression,

floating in mountains, woodland and seas
It swirls up like a storm, leaves no recess forgotten,
and roars through the heart like the pang of disease

Everywhere, everywhere, sings sorrow a requiem
to the festivals, emporiums and fairgrounds of fun
Old ugly roads – see in each one of them
the mask of the clouds has drowned out the sun

Deep heavy feelings are like plugs for the tears
They bellow like anger in the dreary and dark
Life’s pages turn yellow – how faded the years,
they dwell on a soul like mud in the heart

Depression’s omnipotent, wherever you go
It grinds in your skin and weakens your breath
One yearns for relief, but it’s ever so slow
And love masquerades like the brother of death

Look at the view, the sky drenched with sorrow,
the snow-capped mountains, forests and seas
Flowers will grow with the tears of tomorrow,
kisses of nature from the soft gentle breeze

The squirrel, the heron, the rabbit and swan
A whirlpool of colour, green, gold and white
It’s the swelling of pathos that makes us go on
– the sunshine of day, or the terrors of night

I open the door to the great song of depression,
played by an orchestra with the world’s greatest score
The thunder tremendous, and through great regression
I just gaze at the vision and tremble with awe.

21 July 1997