The Hunt

A great utter blackness, with emptiness inside,
fills my whole being, I feel as if I died.
The clock struck six, the bell rings bug once,
I must hurry and get out of here, for soon starts the hunt.

I need to find myself, before my problems find me first,
I search and search and search, but it seems I have been cursed.
My depression find the true me, and locks it in a mask,
The lock is strong, I try so hard, yet still it does hold fast.

But someone else must take this mask from me, to save me from this mess,
I feel as if I'm drowning , I'll do anything I must confess,
To know you are right there, hiding just as me,
Please take a hold my hand, for together, we are set free.