Bonds of Ink

Suddenly last week felt like last month.
The tracking of time I've lost (no news).
Time's passage is vain. Melancholy, strong.
'tis hard to tell myself what my heart feels:

It seems alight with joy, at times,
then at end of day it's but a blaze.
It's easier to feel blue reading the signs
Etched on the walls of everyday's maze.

I'm thriving so far on the joy-quest,
But life's glories with doubt are stained;
Trying to make today yeasterday's best,
Yet a sense of stillness my forces's drained;

Is it a recurring display of flaw?
Some returning self-banishing of me?
Even trying to make joy my new law,
The shadows of past I'm forced to see.

Though less than an ordeal it sounds,
The sadness persists too foul to ignore.
I've moved to meet joy at new grounds,
Aware of the seed of sorrow I bore.

Then of the paper I make my witness,
(From the faces the contriction I hide)
Estranged to the bitter on life's sweetness,
We commune sincerely. Side by side.

-- Ulian, 15/01/13