A song without notes,

A fire without flame,

the earth without air,

A trial with no claim.

The feeling of death,

Which depression will bring,

Is like a singer that cannot sing.

Blackness in the light,

Loneliness in a crowd,

A voice in your head,

That death it has vowed.

Depression is being alive but feeling dead,

Hearing voices, but not knowing what’s said.

Having content days, but the bad are worse,

With this disease being your personal curse.

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