Depression Is An Inspiration

If I could, I'd die for you.
When I should, I cry for you.
If you would, I'd try for you.

It's so hard to go on with trust,
When I trust you, but you can't me,
And how can I rebuild this trust
When it was built over centuries?

I know the only option is
For me to accept that you I've lost,
That I will never know our famous bliss,
Without remembering the cost.

I go on, not accepting this loss,
Thinking of our love, now gone and lost,
Abandoned alone in a sea of dross,
Alone, hungry and cold,
Sick, wasted, and old.

You play your harp,
It wears my heartstrings,
The tone is sharp,
Each brush makes my heart sing,
But each day, and without luck,
I wait for that one, that final pluck,
The push of forgiveness, the touch of love,
The gentle nudge, as soft as a dove.

I cannot know you without knowing you,
I cannot go on with what I once had lost,
I am yours, and have always been, through and through,
But we cannot go on remembering the cost.

You brought me up out of despair,
Made me smell the open air,
A breath of joy and sorrow too,
But with truth's hold, that sorrow grew.

I miss you,
I need you,
I can't go on without you,
And yet I know that I must
Go on alone, to gain back your trust,
None can help me,
Though they shall try,
Is it you and me,
Or just me and I?

The final stroke,
Of death and pain,
Clueless as the constant rain,
Not knowing what it does,
Releasing hate,
And drowning love.