My thought-life battle, Part 3

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Melancholy

Vincent, I wish I could soothe
your throbbing ear pain
your shredded psyche pain
your anguished soul pain.
I completely understand
the constant torturous
sadness avalanche
despite all the beauty,
the ever-hovering dark cloud
casting shadows
over vibrant poppies
bright sunflowers
majestic cypresses
lush irises
and golden wheat.
Let me sit beside you
so I can dress your wound.
Take the pipe from your lips
and remove your coat and hat.
We can share a pot of tea
as we ponder the words from your father’s sermon,
the holy words I’ve read many times:
think on everything that is true
noble
right
pure
lovely
admirable
excellent
praiseworthy.
And the God of peace will be with us,
the two of us gathered in His name.

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