My Friend Amongst the Ghosts

The noose around. The sound of all the birds outside unaware of what's about. The noose tightens. Your mind drifts, wondering about that thing that comes about when your soul is weak, in doubt. A misdirecting shadow of a thing that comes alive with so much dilemma fastened tight to confusion, twisting everything around. That thing that comes at night, bringing loneliness in all it's might, despite the pain of memories those deep mysterious bitter seas, of past deeds you wish to forget. But you regret, because those thoughts are a solemn choice. A choice that led to defeat. And now you're here. Noose tight. Life lost through every breath you exhale. Every accumulated burden leading up to this moment, held up on this old crooked stool. The demons around whispering death, into the abyss of thought it's only now that you realise the depth. But you don't care. You're depressed. A fish among so many fish not worth the reel, so you faked that smile in hopes someone, anyone, that stranger would make it real. But it's too late now. The demons welcome your form, not knowing which gasp of dear life would be your last. The depressions taken hold. Like midnight skies your weakened spirit now like fading lights, "almost there," Your mind roars, in that cold embrace your now abode. You're dead. And no one cared. Though that stranger you cried bitterly for came. It was already too late. The depressions already gotten hold. You're dead. Your minds slowly drifted. Your soul now resides among the ghosts, all ties to life now gone. It's silence. The tune of this now tragic goodbye. 28/08/17?