Sands With Depression

The sadness holds me helpless as the sand-
Awaits for waves to drown it's grains with salt,
Yet even granules know when tides do land
But pain's unrhythmic swells are timed to fault;
With heaviness befalling in my view:
That better be the air, if none found here;
Nor ever were, nor should have been, or knew;
For none about the Sun can mine endear.
Each breath seems stolen out from greater lungs:
A weary war my will is not to win
For yonder cloud is death and death's all tongues,
Inhale for why? When lifers is life's sin.

Relentless as the waves, so flows the pain,
But with me and in-depths the deepest stain.