That dark feeling you sometimes get.
It sneaks up on you, grabbing you when you least expect.
Its iron grip refuses to let you go,
No matter how hard you struggle.

It creeps through the cracks of your mind,
Poisoning your thoughts and tainting your sanity.
It will leave a mark on your soul,
A deep, bleeding wound.

This crushing force will utterly destroy you.
It molds you thoughts into what it wants.
It will change you, make you into someone you aren't
And attempt to keep you that way.

The outsiders, the ones whom you call friend or foe,
Will try and assist or deprave you.
You'll just throw on a smile
And respond accordingly.

This force will cause to you debate life and death,
The pros and cons of both, and ultimately,
You will decide that one is better than the other.
Much better.

Once you realize this,
Things do start to change.
Whatever caused you to fall into the inky blackness disappears.
Time heals all wounds.

Wounds heal.
Never forget it.