The one who loves the depressive mind
Commits to smites; the wary waltz he gaits
Arresting all pride he denies he's blind
Yet the poison nectar; cures and claims his fate

A fate that by his hands has hewed
A fate where he is the *exclude

You say we're friends,
and so do I.

But why do you never include me,
in this mess of time.

But that's okay because sometimes,
I don't even like myself around.