With every story there will be an end,
An outcome of either happy or sad.
There's no guarantee that you'll keep a friend,
You will always be stuck with what you had.
There's no escaping the lonesome season,
It's not always dark, but you'll wish it was.
You'll feel hopeless, for some unknown reason,
And that is one thing that depression does.
How do you stop yourself from suffering?
This whole time, you've been seeing the wrong light.
Although this seems like it's never-ending,
Maybe you're meant to suffer day and night?
Deeper and deeper and deeper you'll fall,
Until there's no way to escape at all.