Depression is this bastard that lies within the annals of my mind, keeping me awake at night, making me fight for sleep.

It is a thief, this bastard

It does not even sneak or creep, it is bold an obvious.

It has robbed me, and will rob me again. It takes from me my sleep, my joy, my love and my affection.

It steals my ability to accept the love of those most precious.

Again and again this bastard finds a way to slowly take my light.

When I have none left, when it has taken my last, then maybe I can rest, but I will never win.

funsummer74 funsummer74
36-40, M
Aug 25, 2014