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Depression
Down in the depths of my very own soul
There is a story just waiting to be told
Of a creature that lurks beyond the dark
On a white birch it is the death of the bark
Spreading its hatred by breaking rusted chains
Impede the blood that courses through my veins
He pulls on my emotions tormenting with despair
So hopeless and withdrawn it’s not worth the care
Binding all faith within its belly and lower womb
Block off the love that’s hidden deep in his room
He hacks at my nerves that craft excruciating pain
I as Abel do suffer at the hand of my brother Cain
Down in the depths of my very own soul
There is a story just waiting to be told
Of a monster that coils and twists for evil
The time of him will be tortuous n’ medieval
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