Exercises in Futility

One is adrift the endless sea, no shores in sight.
Another is crushed underneath unknown weight, unable to rise.
Broken and bereft of will, lying motionless in bed.
Perfectly still.
A demon sits upon their chests, whispering soul-crushing words,
Planting seeds of doubt.
And so they are bereft, of both will and hope,
Struggling halfheartedly against the demon,
by whom they’re choked.
Thus the flowers of depression,
With their musky shut-in scent,
Come into full bloom.


About Fredrik Kayser

Everything is connected.
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2 Responses to Exercises in Futility

  1. Fredrik Kayser says:

    Thank you, Carla. My thought was conecting to how everything feels pointless or futile during depression. : )

  2. Carla says:

    Great poem. In my opinion, It simply describes a person in depression without hope in life. But I don´t understand the title…

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