Dear Emmeline
I am writing to you from a hole,
from a place carved into cave
Sinking into an irredeemable apathy
into a very sickly depression.
I am asking for a hand, for this:
Reach for me,from this deep pit.

Edgar dear,
I am searching all the crevices i know.
Could this be the depression
That snatches unsuspecting souls?
And keeps for itself so it doesn't have to be alone?
I will not rest until i retrieve your troubled mind,
From it's depths and darkness.