Depression

A black void,

A deep nothingness,

All consuming,

Eating its way into one’s soul.

 

This void,

With the consistency of pitch,

Darker and bleaker than any starless night,

Destroys all it comes in contact with.

 

It consumes until all the good and wonderful is just a faded memory of someone else’s life.

It will spread like a plague,

Contaminating all it touches,

Until it is all one can perceive.

 

Every once in a while,

There is a ray of light.

A hope so great and powerful,

That it fights back.

 

This hope can win,

But only if one knows how to use it.

And even then,

Only with the aid of another soul.