This

This is like nothing else

And so this I can’t explain.

This isn’t like thunder

Because thunder loudly comes and goes

And this silently stays

This is nothing like the rain

Because the rain fills the rivers

and helps the living grow

This drains my strength

This stunts my heart’s growth

This is nothing like grief

Because grief is the lowest of many steps

This doesn't lead my shoes
 to any higher levels
This curls alone in a dark corner

This is nothing like madness

Because madness stems from passion

And has wide, intense open eyes

This has no loving roots

This is a weed suffocated beneath cement

This is nothing like pain

Because no drug can numb this

This can’t be put to sleep with pills

This lies beside insomnia

With no hope for a peaceful coma

This is nothing like fear

Because fear is conceived by the unfamiliar

And I know this too well

This can’t be conquered face to face

This has no face

This isn’t rage

Because rage can be hushed

Like a strong breath to a candle’s flame

This burns

 like a thousand year old unknown part of space

This has no metaphor

This has no image

This has no voice

And I hope you never know this