When He first met Depression,
It gave him a superficial impression of a place called Home;
A place of escape from this noisy world,
A place of rest for his tattered soul.
But little did he know of this age-old truth;
That on the heels of Depression runs closely, Deception and Chaos.
Home would soon become Dungeon;
And his tattered soul, a forgotten song.
The pills by his bedside fight to be next in line,
To fill his veins with a craving for more;
And grow this tumor of sinking pain.
When He first met Peace,
He was mildly disappointed.
He imagined a home, a complete realm with no trace of chaos and yesterday’s songs;
A place to rest his healing soul.
But little did he know of this age-old truth:
That Peace is not just a quiet place;
Full of roses and sunlight and sweet blue waters.
The road to Peace is a fight of faith;
And if you choose to fill your veins with Hope,
Your soul will crave for The Light and more.