Depressed souls can't form a smile
(The whole anatomy is off)
And shivers are like silver splinters
Straight through the spine
(And there's a constant chill)

Bones shatter
With each shutter
Making the entity wonder
How something so broken can continue to break

The ideas that try to form
Tear at the back of the scalp
Severing the thought
Leaving one with a migraine
And no hope to get off the couch

Because the labor of the task seems so warped
Procrastination becomes a more welcomed concept

-Suggesting sleep and encouraging dreams-

The place of infinite distance
Where lost spirits have the strength to stroll