By: Alira

Depression isn't sadness,

Or sorrow,

Or anger,

Or fear-

It is despair.

Sadness is welcome,

It brings a release.

Less thought than despair;

More control-

Only not.

Sorrow is simple,

Like a double-bladed knife.

Slice yourself deeply,

And revel in pain.

Anger is better;

A fire that burns the untouchable.

The ice melts-

Leaving nothing underneath,

But pure bliss.

As what once was you,

Burns away-

For a time.


Then lack of it.

Fear drains;

Leaving only a husk.


Knowledge is bad,

Blindness is better.


From despair as well.

But pain remains.


A black hole,

In one's soul.

With no release.

No . . .



***Author's Note*** Heh, disturbing little poem. Feel free to review and tell me if I succeeded in disturbing you, even just a little bit. Oh, and another thing, something you might not care to know. I have a feeling that this was the result of PMS. Toldja you didn't want to know. :P But oh, well, there it is.

~_^ Alira