Depression
Feel the darkness under your skin?
Whispering, Whispering and drawing thin?
It’s rising higher, ever so high,
But it will come crashing from the sky.
Feel the cold crackling in your bone?
That sensation that you are alone?
It’s creeping like death, come to devour,
And in the black pit, everything’s sour.
It is the purpose of a Destroyer.
This poem is about:
Me