Loneliness and Wistfulness

Depression is a weight that weighs weighty on my spirit,

A sensation of vacancy that is difficult to control.

A feeling of seclusion saturates my bones,

A weight that is difficult to bear when I'm in isolation.

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I attempt to shake it off and act courageously,

In any case, the heaviness of forlornness is difficult to supplant.

A quiet throb consumes my heart,

An inclination that destroys me.

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Thoughtfulness is an inclination that travels every which way,

A yearning for something that no one knows.

It's a feeling of sentimentality for a period a distant memory,

A self-contradicting memory that waits on.

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I frequently can't help thinking about what it would be like,

To remember those minutes and feel invigorated.

To recover the enchanted that used to be there,

Furthermore, oust this sensation of depression.

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Depression and insightfulness are two of a kind,

Both letting me feeling lost and be.

They converge in a manner that is difficult to make sense of,

Leaving me with a feeling of yearning and torment.

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I long for association, so that somebody might see,

The individual I am and the individual I need to be.

I long for when I felt less alone,

What's more, insightfully dream of a unique kind of energy.

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Be that as it may, even in the haziest of evenings,

There's a hint of something to look forward to that radiates brilliantly.

An expectation that sometime I'll track down my direction,

Also, the forlornness and contemplation will disappear.

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I'll track down my place in this world, my home,

Furthermore, at absolutely no point in the future will I feel alone.

The heaviness of dejection will lift from my spirit,

Furthermore, insightfulness will be ancient history to view.