The Melancholy Of Despair

The torment of my heart
as though ripped apart
can never quite compare
to the melancholy of despair
as I watch in the distance
it suddenly occurs, this instant
that I am truly apart...
from the torment of my heart
the river, jungle and mountains
exist, despite surmounting
the travisities of polluted fountains
caused by human wanton
the torment of my soul
no longer fully whole
can never quite compare
to the melancholy of despair
still, thus, I am alive
and so before I die
it is my duty to repair
this melancholy of despair.