Amusement Of A Tortured Soul Poem by keegan bourke

Shadows walk among the living
in their own little sections
of solitude and depression.
Silent floating specters.
And I walk with them.
For their state of being
is easy to fall into
and make your own.
Dark and silent,
we bring the cold lurking depression
that flows from us so easily.
We have so much of it to offer.
So shall you partake in this game willingly,
or will it be thrust upon you?
Perhaps when you're sleeping,
or maybe when your guard is down
our misty fog shall creep
into the cracks and crevices
of your mind
until it is filled with it.
Some minds are easier then others,
easily taken, easily controlled.
Depression takes everything
Devours it whole
Like a firestorm on a rampage
Consuming your soul
It dashes your hopes
And crushes your dreams
All for the amusement
Of this cruel disease