Deep depression drags you down,
Kills your thoughts to find the sun,
Songs now lost you've left undone,
Five leaves left have all turned brown.

All your words end up in blue,
Pink moon drowned in seas of black.
Nightmares crawl out through the crack:
Five leaves left have let them through.

Time to go now, time to sleep,
Leave your words all incomplete.
One last pill to make it neat:
Only five leaves left to sweep.


		22 September 2023