Sunny days are rainy days
Going over to storms
And the thounder roars
Lightning the only light

Standing at the Edge of life
the mourning wind, tries to push me over
but I stay strong as an willow
I'm the tree, that doesn't break

The falling rain Turns into a river
The water current becomes wilder
It tries to pull me down
But I'm the Willow, that won't break

The lightning strucks into the other trees
And the fire Breaks Out
Ash and smoke surrounding me
But fire won't get the tree

The storm it grows
Ripping Out the Forrest trees
It still tries to Break me
But I'm the tree, your worst enemy

But at one day
The sun came Back Out
The storm is away, the water drained
I'm the tree, that will stay 'til the end

Life needs a fire of happiness inside me.

The one inside me died when people refused to even have a look at my independently published novels.

I tried to write books inspired metaphorically by my own life-threatening coma-inducing high-speed bike accident. When the Indian publishers rejected my manuscript, terming it as poorly written or full of proofing errors, I self-published my novels on the Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing Program.

So far, I have successfully achieved twice as much success than what I envisioned in my first novel. I completed my graduation despite that accident, just like Akshant did so in the novel. Then I even got the M.Tech on institutional scholarship. Afterwards, I even started a PhD course in Animal Biotechnology from the same ICAR-National Dairy Research Institute as my M.Tech on institutional scholarship, but had to quit it when COVID19 struck. I started preparing for various competitive recruitment exams.

I qualified as a Probationary Officer with the Bank of India through the IBPS PO/MT CRP-XII, but joined the State Bank of India as a Probationary Officer because that was a better option.

As I had cleared even SSC-CGLE AAuO exam, I later quit the SBI PO job when I received the call letter from my present job.

Some people have even dared to defame my novels by rating them badly on Amazon.

Now I have to accept that I can't ever expect my friends, relatives, or colleagues to read my novels. I'll just focus on my job and forget that I wasted 14 years in writing and self-publishing the 9 titles on Amazon as Kindle eBooks and hardcopies. Maybe my depression will help me passively **** myself one day.

My blood pressure is already much lower than normal. Vitamin supplements help, but temporarily.

So many artists have died due to depression. I shall not be the first one. People can go berate my novels on Amazon. My parents tell me that since I have a job now, I shouldn't focus on my creative expression.

Dear dearly beloved,
It's me, again.

I'm sorry for the
Pain and sorrow.

I just want to let
You all know that

There's only
So much lower
I can go.

There's a bullet
With my name on it,

But I don't want
To pull the trigger.

I promise I'm not a quitter,
But I'm far from
Being a winner.

I'm always pulled in
Every direction,

And I feel I fail
Every time, stepping
In the wrong direction.

It's hard to compartmentalize
And section my emotions,

I'm always one step away
From jumping off a ledge,
And it's getting harder

Just to hold on.

Dear dearly beloved,

Pray that I make it through,

So my soul doesn't get
Crushed by the weight
Of the world,

And delivered to the underworld.

I've never felt alive
I've always just been surviving.
It's harder than yesterday now.
I wish to feel like the living.

I'm too exhausted.
Too exhausted to have hobbies.
To have interests.
To watch TV.
To care.

If I'm not on autopilot, I am a mess.
I'm breaking down, unable to move.
Unable to care about those I love.
That can't be living either.
So I just survive.
Barely.
It's hard today.

I hope to be alive one day
But hope is fleeting and deceiving.

In the dawn's embrace,
A weary soul seeks solace
In fading stars and a silent sky.
Where shadows dance in solemn waltz,

Echoes linger of dreams erased,
Life's fragile thread unravels, faults.
The weight of the world, a heavy shroud,
Lifted in a poignant plea, one last sigh.

That last breeze,
A final goodbye

A light that beckons,
The chance to be free.

Speak
As though you've
Learned anything
You little stump
Of a man

When I confide
In you, just
Cut me off and
Talk about
The elements again

Listen
As though you've
Got any other
Motive but *******
Me someday

And I'll pretend
You're a friend
Until you do it
Again and then
I'm walking away