A Secret Depression

The New Year has passed,
But the happiness will not last.
I feel utterly depressed,
And my mind harrassed
By what I have realised,
Which is not what I have idealised.

The shocking knowledge that
The truth was hidden under a hat,
And what I have so far achieved
Means that my visions will never be perceived.
Accompanied by grief and sorrow,
My life becomes ever so hollow.

A knife in my heart,
It is just the start.
To know that in order to succeed,
My efforts has to exceed.
But I can not bring my self to try harder,
Or even to see much farther.

My desperation is in vain,
But my thoughts will keep me sane.
All my dreams—shattered.
Not that it ever really mattered
To anyone else, or otherwise.
And now I have to live under disguise.

The pain and the suffering
That my leaving will bring
To everyone around me,
And, as far as I can see,
I cannot commit them, all the same,
To end a world of agony that I aim.

What is the point of life
When all I can feel is a knife
Driven deep into my soul
Bringing out all my woe?
Lying in my soft, warm bed at night,
I feel the cold tears blurring my sight.

But for all the good times that I had,
I think life is not all that bad.
It is only natural for there to be
A rollercoaster in my life’s misery.
I can now feel some purpose in my existence,
So I shall try harder to see into the tainted distance.