Depression Within Me

Depression's my life, depression's my soul. From the day I first inhaled the breath of life It has engulfed, enveloped the very emotions by which I express my life and self - It is the dweller within me that sways life's occurrences. Born New Year's Day - shortly after the first snowfall - I am part of this hazy shade of darkness, a character in its book of terror. Who would have thought mid-winter to be so cold? For all around me exists starvation and suffering, desolation and death. The homeless know not where to go, while the less fortunate bury themselves in self-pity. And the monster inside me uses my eyes to watch in satisfaction the destruction it's caused. The prisoners of depression lack a saviour to resurrect, save them from this horror. Although they sometimes laugh, smile, play - an obvious facade of their sadness - They wait in hope for a shining, bright star to guide them to their light and salvation. Those shades of valor - red, white, and blue - Colors that in global strife led us through, No longer fly confident and aloft in the wind. Oh, life is so painfully agonizing that I no longer find solace in my country's hymn: I rather find shame in that once sweet-soft melody of strength that now plays innocuous melancholy. Cursed by a reaper of depression, it brings a new age of tears to my eyes, tears of excruciatingly stressful scorn. And the creeper within me laughs in merriment at my misery. Oh, why must it be I who suffocates, lies entrapped within this house of pain, Long, harsh winters where hope falls as incessantly as snow? And when is there to be sun, light, to lead me through this narrowing tunnel of splinters? What is to become of our slow, desolate journey To find an escape from this curse? And how are we To prevail when we dream of only darkness and nooses? How does the black man who is slain and tortured, mistreated and lonely Cope with such unfairness? Oh, how does he Find comfort in this cold when I, mature and competent, see no warmth! I am stuck in the coldest shade of frost, lost in its blotches of grey, and Watching the horror unfolding before me - this nightmare, the birth of death - While in the distance the lovely, sweet melody plays, lovely 'til the end.... Seeing the light before me - the melody playing louder - I sense a closure, a curtain-call to this December dream; And reminiscing on my life's series of unfortunate events, I remember... Depression's my life, depression's my soul....