Lifting Depression

The mist gradually enveloped my soul,
Natural cycles of life halted,
Branches of trees snapped,
Leaves on the ground hardened,
My back becomes more crooked,
To look ahead was to open wounds,
To move backwards only eased them,
But the drums of battle pierced my limbs,
I had few breaths left,
And no chance of survival,
Then a being entered my curse,
The dark mist on my soul lifted,
The waters of life returned,
Now, my branches towards the heavens elevated.
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