Depression

I have been to Hell
and back a few times now
I know what it's like there,
and 'Hell' is the only word
I can use to describe it
There's no one shining a light
into that pitch blackness
To lead your soul out,
no ropes bolted to the
walls of that cave
No echo of footsteps,
no sound at all, but the rush
of blood in your ears
But the screaming and
pounding of fists inside your head,
As you attempt to break free
from your own mental prison inside,
Where no one can see the
black hole in your head,
The rotten apple of your heart,
your guts twisted in knots,
Your body bent, broken
with despair, grief, rage, hunger
Your life in a state of starvation,
an unquenchable thirst for
some kind of salvation
There is none.
No one carries you out
of that burning building,
No one drags you from
the undertow to give you
mouth to mouth resuscitation,
While outside the gates,
everything looks just fine
to all that pass by
Your life goes on, you zombie
walk through your days,
you robot talk, Numbness
becomes your commonplace,
you forget what feeling feels like,
You forget that once you felt,
you are a reflection,
you forget that
There is life outside your walls,
so you stop fighting.