Creeping like Madness

Turmoil. Internal Turmoil.

Happiness surrounds and fills me,

And sorrow moves from its niche.

Love can fill the most empty of spaces,

But as water to oil,

It cannot displace the sorrow.

Longing the likes of which I had forgotten,

And creeping sadness fills like a madness,

Infecting the good and the noble,

Soiling my blood and my hope.

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