Methane Depression

As emotions linger, a heavy weight is revealed.
Beneath the surface, it is potent and concealed,
Feelings hide a methane depression, unseen,
Riddles in rhyme, what does it mean?

I pressed on. resolute, in time though, drowsiness leaks,
Despised ahead, ever onward… ever, my spirit speaks.

Suppressed and hidden within a silent storm,
A tempest of feelings gaseous yet taking form
as a cloak of heaviness, a shroud of pressure,
In the soul’s depth, a burden without measure.

A wise serpent, its coils of wisdom, twisted obsession,
Guides me through the labyrinth of my mind’s confession.

The methane depression is a quiet despair,
A weight on shoulders, a burdensome air.
Lingering beneath the surface, unseen,
A silent struggle, where darkness convenes.

Heavy winds above, and hard rainstorms descend,
Yet within, a flame of courage, a vow to transcend.

And yet a methane fog on a hopeless night
wraps around my throat, making my head light.
An emotional burden, a mental low,
Within this darkness, will anything grow?

Freed from ghostly wandering, I emerge into the light,
Shining bright, dispelling shadows that grip too tight.

Acknowledge the shadows, face the pain,
Let the healing begin, like a gentle rain.
within the hidden, a strength may rise,
a breath emerging, breath deeply the skies.

The methane depression is an art in murky hues,
Yet within the depths resilience accrues.

Release the pressure, unburden the heart,
Let emotions flow, they call it a healing art.
For in the depths, where shadowed thoughts play,
Hope is the breath that keeps the methane at bay.

Long gains from battles fought within the soul,
I pressed on, claiming victory, making the broken whole.