Have you met the black dog?

Have you met the Black Dog?

                                    Always there,

                                             But I am not always aware

Of his brooding presence.

He never forces his attentions,

         But let the natural sway

                  Of life have its way

With me and he is there.

                           If I acknowledge his hold over me

                  And face him down,

         Overwhelmed I drown

                           In the baleful depths of his stare.

The blackness saturates every pore.

                  The abyss yawns;

                           Temptation beckons me

         To submit to his vice-like embrace.

                                    Suffocation follows my submission,

                                             Midst the whirling cloud

                                    A dead weight, loud

                                                      In its silent, crushing pain.

At length he yields his grip.

                  Stillness in the deep;

                           A rock beneath my feet;

         A deafening emptiness heralds a glimmer of hope.

I cry with relief at his departure.

                  He sits benignly,

                           Not unkindly,

Eyeing me with a fixed and watchful look.

                           The Black Dog will never leave for good.

                                             A friend by my side,

                                                      Ready to chide –

                           And to return should I misuse others – or myself.