Dear Depression,

Becoming unto me, trepidation sized of one thousand seas.
Prithee alloweth the waves wipeth me hence gently, f'r such a broken soul cannot dudgeon beatings such as these.
Drifting along the surface of fear with such proportions, in ramshackle and driftwood, terroristic winds continue to shove me further along into my demise, yet I hope to be blessed be. In searcheth of green'r pastures that are nowhere in sight due to the monstrous waves who accompany me. Has't trepidation i doth! Fear possesseth me as i am his shepherd, to him i bid my hat off. Swept und'r by hellish mis'ry, the salty surface of my own mind is all I see while looking up, as I descend into myself. Human lungs were crafted to feed off oxygen, not brackish of my sorrow. The unseen events of my future surround me with sharpened fangs of calcium phosphate and glowing red eyes of which within them i cannot see my tomorrow. By the many my demons latch onto me and consume to their leisure. I'm left but a riddled corpse adrift under saline currents. Eventually the ship of my aspirations would become of wreckage, and to it, my corpse is drawn in to has't my docket wrapeth its twine into nooses 'round my neck, leaving me to dangle about my yearnings tattered mast. Is it possible to have numbness and trepidation concurrent? With but a single eye left with to peer into the blackened brine, deterioration of my outer layers hasten's by the second thanks to the poison of consciousness that seeps out from the gray matter of my brain, constantly nagging my atoms as to push them away and break me down even further. Bone and marrow is all that's left by now, certainly my suff'ring is to cease? No. For my soul frequents these waters in search of those green'r pastures sought by the skin I once had. I'm nothing left but an apparition, my constant fear has quite literally drowned and decomposed me with no exit in sight to be proposed to me. A tip from the wise to the wicked and free, for the love of yourself, please don't let the waters of your greatest fears be rid of you as done to me.

Sincerely, Vincent French