The thick fullness of the mother-orb
strikes my blood metallic cold in my mouth;
its sheen is a sword singing
straight through my gut.
It resonates in my the chord of memory,
dredging from those fitfull thrashing thoughts,
that moment.
Something so bright and necessary,
so important to some and unnoticed by others,
shattered into glass fragments.
I watch my dreams shatter into tiny stars
without the interlocution of their meaning.
I count the stabbing pains of
that moment.
The single second the moon went out
the sky black and hopeless, cold like chains.
The light of all hopelessness destroyed
by simple, single folly. Nature or nurture?
That black moment my dreams were extinguished,
my love for life stabbed to death by falling beams.
That fucking moment.
Author notes
This is about where my depression began. I hope I conveyed this soundly enough, but not too obviously. 
A contest entry
- What Went Wrong? (prewrites welcome) by Danna Hobart.
490 points, ended January 12, 37 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What do you think?
Comments
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Who is the miserable bastard that said you can't write?? This is brilliant!
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I like the way this built from the first stanza to the last. Your metaphors are strong. Thank you for entering my contest.
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