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As if a mother of two children were just given the news
That both children were killed by a murderous fiend
When she tries to inhale but the surrounding air seems deprived of oxygen
So breathing becomes useless as she tries to think
And her heart feels now like it's been lodged in her throat
All the voices of people seem so far way
This is how depression is for me.
I love the time of year, in the town where I  live,
When dark fluffy rainclouds block out the sun,
Raindrops sprinkle down in periodic fits of showers
And the colors of life look more brilliant than ever
It gives me the feeling of living in a fishbowl
The air itself seems to adopt a verdant green hue
Signaling the rainy season is in full swing.
The absinthe was poured
Soon thirst will be quenched
The water then added
The green fairy did change
So my brain could be drenched
And my mind would derange
What was peridot green
Is now most opaline
The fennel and anise
Are present indeed
But the taste of the wormwood
Is the flavor I need
From prison to prison we go in this world.
the only freedom is through Christ.
The sands of time emptying, pouring down
to fill a desert of sand that we walk through.
Our mouths parched, so dry we cannot speak
silenced in a land of false ideas.
It is necessary to make our ideas known.
A necessity in life and a comfort to us.
I'm proud to be out of my mind and in God's control.
I'm happy to say that He owns my soul.
My name is written in the book of life.
So why then do I cut my arms with a knife?
I try to think of thoughts that are good.
I'd lead a saner life if I could.
I have Christ's example to follow.
I feel this misery's so hollow.
I think of things I've done and said.
And my mind feels so cold and dead.
Yet I find  hope in God's good love.
I can feel Him blessing me from above.
Yes, there is hope in Jesus.
Laugh because it's the best at it you know, even though I'll never tell, and what is bought will never sell, who has it will never show.
The doer without desire,
Who does not boast of his deed,
Who is ardent, enduring,
Untouched by triumph,
In failure untroubled:
He is a man of sattwa (the energy of inspiration)

The doer with desire,
Hot for the prize of vain glory,
Brutal, greedy and foul
In triumph too quick to rejoyce,
In failure despairing:
He is a man of fajas (the energy of action)

The indifferent doer
Whose heart is not in his deed,
Stupid and stubborn,
A cheat, and malicious,
The idle lover of delay,
Easily dejected:
He is a man of tamas (the energy of inertia).
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