Nocturnal Melancholy

This is something I felt during 7 years of imprisonment on a foreign continent.

Immured in a sable solitude,
I befriend the phantom who danced on my chest.
From the margins of this sallow silence,
Tonight I glance into fathomless depth.

A mere shadow of my former self,
I let these four walls consume me.
An emptiness without a shape,
I exist without 'motion among the moving

We're all but vain, tethered clods of clay.
Is this life but an interlude to death?
Void of will to cast my mortal chains,
I continue my struggle with augmented breaths