Depressions Cycle

The many thoughts wishing that I was dead. Not able to tell which voice is mine. Just get out of my head! The many voices that intertwine. I hate that you know me so well! Attacking the faith, that's keeping me alive. Those little whispers condemning me to hell. Is my death the outcome for which you strive? With me gone, you'll be gone too! No longer able to spread your spite! You didn't consider that did you, you fool! And now to defeat you, I might! The many thoughts wishing that I was dead. Not able to tell which voice is mine.