Depression - 5. Longing for the End of Days

I looked out the window tonight

and watched the sun slowly setting.

And as the darkness devoured the sunset

I started to think:

What is the point of believing

when all your beliefs are destined to be proven wrong?

What is the point of trusting

when trust must always yield to betrayal?

What is the point of loving

when even the deepest love can only lead to pain?

I looked out the window tonight

and as I felt the darkness slipping into my soul

like dampness seeping through a stone wall

I started to wonder:

What kind of life would it be if you had no expectations

because you didn’t want to feel disappointment?

What would be the point of waking up if you had abandoned all your dreams

because you knew they would only end in disillusionment?

What would be the point of even living if you couldn’t make yourself hope

because you knew it would ultimately turn to despair?

I looked out the window tonight

and felt the blackness permeate my being.

And as I felt myself yielding to its desolation

I came to realize:

That I didn’t want to turn away from the light

just because the darkness was inevitable.

That I didn’t want to be grateful for the fist

just because it wasn’t the knife.

That I didn’t want to sit here in despair of life

longing for the end of days.

I looked out the window tonight

and as the first fingers of light

began to pull back the curtain of darkness

I came to accept:

That no one really cares what I want