I am the tear
That falls down your cheek,
I am the cold
That climbs up your spine,
I am the sharp
Edge that cuts your wrists,
I am the voice
Of your screams at night
I am the nails
That claw your lovely heart
I am the black
In the cloths you ware,
I am the darkness
In those beautiful green eyes,
I am the hands
That hide your sweet face, and
I am the demons
Playing in your head;
I am depression.

Clouds hide and shy away
Under mountains so high,

Under hills of pine trees;
Forged by God above are

The lofty mountain peaks,
Where trolls and dwarves  

Dwell is where the snow is 
Born glimmering under 

Morning sun; the pine 
Tall as can be! The high folk 

Of the forest, like a quilt 
They cover the land, keeping 

Warm her children in cold 
Night winds; like a rose 

God's handicraft blooms,
His work is shown off 

By mountain top snow 
And cloud hidden valley.

Sleep in, she hears no sorrow;
She leaves no shadow
Wondering.
Wake up, she sees no lover;
She feels her life shiver
In Spring.

Close up, he shows no pain;
He hides under morning rain
Bleeding.
Sits down, of what he has done,
He ponders of what has gone,
Sighing.

The snow will kiss the ground
While we play by the Sound,
Chill winds stir my soul
As I stand watching this shoal;
Out yonder in the sea
They come to love me;
Hearing sounds, my  ghost
Longs to see his Host;
Under the sun
A girl fixes her hair into a bun,
Smiling as the winds blush
Telling children to hush
Before war finds them
And me it will condemn;
The army is my postal service
Sending to her my kiss.