My feelings of joy have fled.
This time of sorrow has taken its stead.
What is happiness but a thing of the past,
this feeling we enoyed tends to pass so very fast.
Many things in time are said,
but the pain will only be dulled when im dead.
Depression has only brought me closer to fate,
but in the end it's still a horrid state.
What is this thing we call depression?
Is it just the hearts desolation?
Or does it only bring you down,
down so low you may only frown.
The light, the dark.
The right, the mark.
In the end this joy will flee,
from the dark's irrepressible glee.
Ettipus Community Member 
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