Depression

I'm not sure who I wrote this poem for. It came to me and I had to write it down.

Depression
© 2006 by Lynne Detrow

I walk in the blackness of night
Through the blackest of black I walk
Heavy dark clouds scurry to cover the moon
The stars flee, all is quiet
The animals of the night are silent
Fear sticks to them like ice on a tree in winter
I walk towards the lake
The grass, dry and brittle, snaps beneath my bare feet
The barren trees stretch in agony before me
I approach the lake, I see the oily waves
I stop to ponder
When I look into the water what will I see?
I walk into the icy black water
It rises higher, higher
I stop, bend and look into its depths
I see death- skulls, bones
Empty eye sockets that see no more
Open mouths screaming inaudible screams
Hands like branches reaching, reaching, never to grasp again
The wind moans and cries all around me
Banshees of the night arise
Welcome me to your home
Open your arms to me
All is lost
I walk into my new home
The black water closes over me
Arms of hell pull me down, down, never to return
Who will notice?
Who will care?
Who will weep for me?