When years passed away,
With no one dear,
The eyes filled with tears,
And the heart with fear.....
With the dark lonely nights,
And the frightened lonely fights,
When sadness reaches its height,
And the no aim left for light.....
Then life goes tough,
And the roads seem rough,
The lonely souls cry,
Life's enough,
No more tries......
With the lonely hours,
The itching deadly scars,
And the frightened lonely nights,
With no hope of light...
Then the broken hearts mourn,
These were the seeds,
I have sown,
Without the cheers,
This is all that I bear...
Everything boring,
The soul roaring,
The pain pouring,
The mind souring...
Then came a DEAR,
The depression,
Wich I fear,
Standing with a KNIFE,
CHASING throughout the life I live...
Depression is a state of mind, not a disease to be treated by doctors, psychiatrists and psychologists… fantastic poem, dear JayJay
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Depression could very well be a zombie, which needs an exorcist to treat…. Or, as we call in my mother tongue Malayalam, it needs to be treated by the mysterious process called "Uchchatanam"?