It’s not the brain but more the heart where depression starts to cry
and in those tears the spirit drowns and feels like it might die.
It is a time of all regret, where blackness rules the day
and all around us black walls grow until there is no way.
No way to get out of “The Pit” that swallows up your soul.
No way to see a future; a life that has no goal.
And when your life is beaten within that pit of black
you wander there with no escape; Hellhounds at your back.
And deep within that blackness you can see no way
that you could ever find a path back to the light of day.
But even there, there is a light, to guide you to the trail
and if you just keep focussed then you will never fail.
That light is in the knowledge that all ends if it starts
and no matter how black it all feels, healing’s in all hearts.

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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