My depression is coming in like winter.
It’s cold sterile loneliness smacks you in the face.
White desolation mirrors the vast emptiness inside.

Yes my depression is setting into my soul as the sun dips into the sea.
The blackness, only moments away, brings the fear of isolation.
My heavy heart is lost to its current.

Tears wax and wane upon my eyes like the deep morning’s mist.
Barely noticeable as gravity pulls them unto her womb.
My eyes wander through mazes of sorrow.

My depression is coming in like winter.
Emotions flutter as my death rattle echoes across the land.
I am a desolate tree vacant of leaves.