the nature of discontent

what is discontent?
is it a seed, nestled deep down that, given sunlight, grows?
is it a passing wind that takes hold of your inner branches and shakes and shakes and shakes a while?
where does it come from,
and what its purpose?
and from where does it gather such strength
to cast all life into question
and pale all happiness in its blinding rays?
its talons grip and squeeze and choke.
and it siphons joy,
and it poisons.
it is a siren song, a whisper, close.
it distorts the melody of shalom.