The light from my laptop fades,
fading slowly like dying hope,
this device that helps me cope
can't any longer put a lock
on my mind with the million thoughts,
the music it plays can no longer silence
the voices I only hear when I am alone
And everything is silent.

If only the voices were not my own
if only it was someone else to whom I could atone,
I could take the blame and find ways to repent,
in the end, forgiveness could be given
but in this case, the wronged is me
Wronged by my own failures and bad decisions.

So I cuddle myself,
I cuddle myself
Alone in the dark
where regrets of missed opportunities lurk
disgusted as self-reflection
that end in depression
and leave me wondering "WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!".

My life may not be perfect
but it doesn't lack opportunities
so why am I losing the game
is it Kharma or bad luck
or am I simply a victim to my own Immaturity.

Am I the problem
is my misfortune a result of my inadequacy,
am I body abled but not capable,
armed with the tools but with a mind of a fool,
a fool who always fuck up,
no matter how many times he gets up.

With this, I wonder if I should stop listening to the voices
And look deep within the mist
A glimpse of light within the darkness
That small voice of hope within the midst,
that tells me that my insecurities are fallacies,
that good things like bad things
have their seasons
it's just that on the track of time
Mine are yet to come.

The same voice that tells me
that fate only rewards those who dare to hope
and that in the end,
I will be the man I wish to be,
The man that only exists in my father's dreams
And in my mother's eyes.

Written by the Poetik Wolf

#Depression #life #enxiety #hope