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Depression, sinking in,
You can feel it coming,
Can feel it like you feel a wave,
The current,

Pulling, yanking at your legs,
Your ankles.

“Come play,” It calls,
“Come play the sick game,
Of hate and love,
All the same,
Of joy and sorrow,
All the same,
Always today.
Always tomorrow.”

Falling, now,
Into its grasp,
Its cold, bitter grasp.
Down, down, down,
And farther still,
You fall,
You plummet,
Till you finally reach rock bottom.

Till you finally consider,
Making choices,
You never thought you’d make before.
Till you finally consider,
Doing things,
You never thought you’d do before.
Till you finally consider,
Hating people,
You never thought you’d hate before.

And as it holds you there,
As it makes you watch your life,
Shatter to pieces,
You wonder,
“Will it ever stop?”