Depression

You settle over me like a silent night that creeps slowly over the city.

You swathe me in reams of abject despondency and melancholy self-pity.

Then like the critters of the night, I hear these voices that speak in my head.

They make me doubt myself; say I am not good enough, as I lie in my bed.

Silently you permeate my rational thought, my reason and my sense of logic.

You reduce me to just a hollowed out shell, a debilitation that is tragic.

They say I suffer from depression and that I alone can fight this and win.

But, tell me how I should do so when what I contemplate is a sin?

Yes, I speak about ending it, taking my life that was so preciously given.

You call me a coward but believe me to overcome, I had genuinely striven.

I did try to swim against this tide of negativity in my head.

Maybe my problems will be solved once I am well and truly dead

But, just when I have concluded that suicide is what I shall attempt,

From the depths of my mind, pragmatism surfaces and does tempt.

It stays my hand; it flays my pessimism and emboldens my flagging will

And just like that, I understand how to fight, survive & remain alive still.