Creeping up your stairs at night, As you lay asleep in bed, The depression imp slides in your room, And straight inside your head, He starts to play his little game, Your at his beck and call, Whispering all bad thoughts, Your dreams begin to fall, You start to doubt your confidence, Along with hope and will, He's eating your very essence, Your soul he wants to kill, You let yourself fall at his feet, Your future in his eyes, You cannot help but be entranced, You feed him with your lies, Your kindness shrinks to anger, Your caring thoughts are gone, This is a wicked entity, And he wants you for his own, He will use your every breath, To try and keep you in, But please have faith and belief, Were all put here to sin, But in the pits of darkness, A light will always beam, There's always hope and dreams to be, After the darkness you have seen, So just before you drift to sleep, Try to say this prayer, Stay away depression imp, There is no room in here. Christina Ford