Depression.

Another night hath passed me by,
And still I hold this pen.
Just to record the insignificant seconds,
That I can't bring myself to forget.
For soon this pen will turn to steel,
In a pathetic attempt to make me feel,
Something I lost years ago.
Edging myself into a further state of depression,
Forcing my body into a concocted position of recession,
As my blood kisses the bathroom floor,
Once more.

My mind is overflowing,
Like the blood escaping my veins.
Replaying every single scenario,
All ending with the same pain.
I lock my self away from the world,
yet the world continues on smiling.
In an attempt to convince my self that I am alone,
Yet the world knows I'm just lying.
If I turned my back on the world,
Would she start crying?
Or am I so insignificant,
That her tears only appear when I'm dying?

For it is now that she should begin to weep,
As my fate hath been decided.
Bursting open arteries in line,
Was cowardly and simple-minded.
But it was a one-way mission I initiated,
And it was one I certainly completed.
Regretfully I gaze down,
My blood level's depleted.

The world now flows with a sea of tears,
And I wish one were for me.
So I could sail amongst the many souls,
That seeked serendipity.
So I can finally feel a part,
Of something much more greater than I.
Although it were only in death,
That such a part came to I.