Not able to weep…
Because it would be too many for one to cry.
Would be too many, so there are none at all…
And the poor boy thought, why can’t we just be and play?
And the mother thought, when does this nightmare finally end?
And the girl thought, well, I don’t know.
And the father was all driven away by his fame and (so called) duty.
All too familiar, all everywhere, all the time in society… the “civilized world”, in which everyone hides away their wishes, pain and thoughts. Where “thoughts are free” is more a sick joke, than a statement.
Sun glasses to disguese the worn out and tearful eyes.
While all should actually be full of love.
No love means no life. Fear takes love away.
For what, for whom?
The point of depression is, to see the world for how it really is.
And then to change it, to bring light into the darkness.
But it is hard… so damn hard because it feels so cold and lonnely.
So hopeless and endless and as if it doesn’t make a difference, what you do, try or say. As if it only makes it all worse.
The point of depression is, to say what isn’t right.
To stand your ground and make your choice.
Because a true warrior fights for the family.
A duty soldier just for a title, for a few words and a faked smile.
A true warrior fights with the heart and has grace, not only hate.
A duty soldier kills when they get told to do so.
No questions, no freedom, no glory.
A true warrior might be lying in bed a lot. Crying a lot, feeling a lot and screaming for justice. A true warrior is a survivor in a cruel world.
An honest heart, a lovely soul, a broken heart and an angel as well.
Maybe you are a true warrior and not a toy soldier, just wasting away…
Don’t ask me what I am, for I am a ghost, like the ghosts on christmas eve.
But this year, every day is like chirstmas and every day is like hell.