Dim light shining through my bedroom window,
the glass covered in rain droplets and thick fog
obscuring the outside world in a sullen gloom.
As the droplets cascade through the dense haze
it reminds me of tears falling from despondent eyes,
of a smog that obscures all bliss and contentment.
And yet this overcast and dismal source of light
is all that I have in the solitude of my own bedroom,
isolated in a sea of consuming darkness and sorrow.
My own bedroom is a prison cell with a barred window,
chained and unable to move from the warmth of my bed,
depression and anxiety are the wardens of my captivity.