Depression

What I feel
But cannot see
It's the fear of a man
Reality of man and woman

If I could be a child with a hole in my head
I'd take my mind out and rape it in my bed
The juices of my naked soul shall slow
Then I'd be more then just a man

Before I go
I've decided to find
The mind I've lost to the gardens of grey
Where it was left with children to cry

If I could be more pure and naked than those
Who brought me in here, I could have rosen
My hapiness out and engrave the name
Of my hatred god to it

Though others say that I'm often sad
The deserted valleys and the sand
Will prove with every springful rose
That I still exist and be

What could be more beautiful than
A funeral where grief and fear of a man
Are floating grey to the face of the truth
Of the deceased