Deep beneath the depths of me,
Are buried wounds you cannot see.
I wish for others to feel my pain,
For in my mind there is a stain.

A stain that remains inside my head,
That makes me wish that I was dead.
'Tis a fight only I can wage,
Against the chaos and the rage.

So much darkness and decay,
That I can barely keep at bay.
I often long for some relief,
A helping hand to hold my grief.

I carry hope within my heart,
That my mind won't tear apart.
My pain is crushing inside of me,
With this illness you cannot see.