Descent

What is this great weight
I feel upon me?

A dull,
Energy sapping,
Numbness
That envelopes me.

I am caught
In a well of despair,
Chemicals are
the only escape.

These small round
solidified powders,
That regulate,
And terminate
Life and creativity,
Respectively.

Life should all be easier now,
But it is not,
All that remains for the mind is,
Descent.
Descent.
Always descent.