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Depression
He was in it,
It defined him. He needn't a name any more- He was depression. He looked down his mug, But he didn't see coffee. Instead, he saw a dirtied river With decaying souls swimming Lifelessly in it. He drank it, Closing his eyes at the bitterness Of death. Feeling the souls Pour past his throat. He lay on his bed Staring at the ceiling. It was white So white Like angels That you met only when you were Dead. Like innocence, Beauty, Pure souls; Everything he was not. The tears fell once again Becoming his newly found friends. They were there to cheer him up, There for him. But he could taste the blood too, The ones that he never wanted, But kept craving to get out of him- The blood that poured out his veins. Depression |
Re: Depression
This is stunning!
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Re: Depression
I love the ending, it's all amazing though. D:
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Re: Depression
Thank you :)
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Re: Depression
Great one :)
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Re: Depression
I really like this.
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Re: Depression
This is brilliant. D:
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