Feelings of heavy sorrow no more

Since tales of such have been spilled

To those who carry burdens of others

And help eradicate them from existence

It doth bring no happiness

Halt the recovered actions and words

Congrats do not exist, not for me

For there's only heavy exhaust upon my heart

This brings none but dreariness

Hoping that the day shall be kinder

More enjoyable than those prior

That torture my mind and drive me mad

Dreariness that carries no energy

That which sucks out motivation

That which brings a haze

Of confusion and sleepiness

Entwined with being out of sync,

And needing realignment with the universe

This doesn't say, however,

That tears are not shed at later hours

When the moon hides behind orange

When music works me up and down

Blood shed from slits upon the limbs that help me to function

Less commonly than in winter

Tears are shed indeed, more common now

Than later.

They do not speak for my pain

Moreover, they speak for my plea

My weighted plea, that doesn't feel need

To be born into words

My supported plea, which has more than reason to be said

My plea, my plea to be free from the chains for this depression

To be free from this haze that will destroy every morsel of strength to try and yearn for more.

Simply telling the undertaker

About miseries you strain unto your back

Those dead beings that make one miserable

Is not powered enough to lift it off

It takes much effort to fix my shattered heart

That doth not see the light, or love

That have none but given up on hope

Because it failed many a time ago to be better.