Depression Stays

Walls

These unbearable walls they held me captive,

When the grasping air of there foreclosures dig,

To the empty challenges of the benighted,

Will the shadows and eerie take in gorge with my stance,

And will the hallows and shallows prance,

Over my presence like four baring knives,

Stabbing my deep growling skies,

Telling the darkness,

That this,

This...

Is it for me,

Their is not epiphany,

No turning away from the death that succumbs,

That delicately kills in my dead desperate thumbs,

Tapping to make me sane,

From the kneeling frame,

I move to rock the silence,

Of the inference,

That conforms the demonic place,

That I know perish in grace,

Waiting to believe in unholy,

To take me,

Arms baring wrists fully.

Expose

When the echoes cinder my soul,

I will let it take tole,

Because it hurts to much to care,

To bare,

To share,

I need the tears to keep inside,

So I can ride,

With the confide,

Of the infernal incomprehensible,

So it will be impossible,

To leave my ruptured departed,

That I hurtfully started,

On the day I was born,

Since I am infinitely torn,

To feel this endless scorn,

I will feel the twilt,

That my bodies confirmation built,

And enclose,

Till my destruction will be exposed.

My thoughts:

To try to comprehend depression in a lost soul, is like trying to understand how we got here. How we exist. Depression is sometimes unable to understand. When someone, has a deep dark hole of darkness when you look in there eyes. And their is no light. They are gone from the world around them. They will never set foot on the standards of sanity. They will always drift to the nearest darkest corner they can seclude themselves in. Just too feel adapted and alive. Because they are gone within there emptiness. Depression seethes farther then anyone can confer. It is forever a mystery as to why so many die, of there own destruction's. Of there own loneliness and shadow.

Short Poem:

The times pain,

Lets the never ending,

Never refrain,

It will be always pending.

Depression kills, it never for fills.