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Why would I need an antidote

to melancholy

It's the wind under my wings

The sadness I need for my poetry

It's the melody that keeps me up at night

Art devours me whole when I'm at loss for words and air

Melancholy sounds strange but fits my trembling hands just fine when I'm holding

The quill that writes my story

A story that's melancholy in description

An antidote to the hope and heartbreak

The bittersweet book of love that I'm reading often leaves me disappointed

And all I have left Is my melancholy

It holds me in the quite/white winter dusk and caresses my hair

When my countless lovers adrift

The sunlight rarely burns through my skin anymore

It's the moonlight I crave

The feelings of madness that I await

Why would I need an antidote to melancholy

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