Depression

I am alone, circling the black lake.
I focus on the green grass, the chirping birds,
Trying to remember the beauty of the forest.
One day I will return, if I am vigilant.
But I glance at the still waters casting twisted, ugly reflections,
And I trip.
My hand sends ripples across the surface.
I try to stand, but lakeweed has wrapped around my arm, pulling me under.
The more I resist, the more I struggle,
The more I am entangled.
I scream for help, desperately scanning the trees,
But no one is there.
The water is warm and soothing.
My movements become lethargic.
I fall asleep as I am slowly suffocated.