The inherent twist of Depression that I lament, yea, it devours but portrays to me my weaknesses and duty to dementia.

Tho naught with radiance, with gloom, for our riven hearts the black beast, the damnable atrocity, did consume.

But tomorrow I will be all smiles, and I'm not sure which is worse. The ichor of the sadness or the mania, both I do curse.