This is more of a short story than a poem, but it holds a special place
in my heart. I wrote this during one of my toughest times... as I was
beginning to come out of a deep despair. On a side note, if anyone would
like to form a clan with me for those suffering or recovering from
depression, please send me a tell. If you don't care for symbolism, you
probably won't care for the story... so just carry on.

It's also quite lengthy, as well.



-+- A Metaphor for Depression -+-

"Mommy, Mommy! Look at the boat I made!" The little boy ran to his
mother, showing off the small paper boat he had constructed.

"It's very nice, dear. Why don't you go put it in the river? See if it
will float." The boy ran down to the bank of the river, excited to try
out his new toy. As he placed it in the water, the boat took off with
amazing speed. The boy's hands clapped merrily as he watched it flow.
The river was very small at this point, and the boy waded in and grabbed
his boat back from the shallow water.

The boy played for quite a long time here, as a young boy's attention
span can be quite long if the moment is fitting. Soon, however, he grew
tired of his boat and simply placed it in the river to drift off down
stream. The passage that the boat took from here would be a long and
winding one--a journey of solitude and isolation, as the boy had
forgotten about his toy.

'Floating past the shore, the boat looked out to worlds she had never
seen before. Whole civilizations colonized the shores and it amazed her
to see the different places that she had never been. Children would come
to the shore and see her, shouting, "Mommy! Look! A boat, Mommy!" The
parents would simply pat the child on the head, however, and say, "Yes,
dear. It is a nice boat," without ever really seeing it. The idea that
they would ignore her hurt the boat's feelings and she began to grow
more isolated. The river's current was picking up--it was getting wider
and deeper. She began to wonder what she had gotten herself into, but
she continued down the river. She could have floated to shore if she
chose to, but she found no reason to. She was happy floating down the
river, and there was still so much more to see.

'Time went on like this for quite a while. The river got deeper and
wider, the current picked up with each day. Soon, the little boat found
herself being swirled around in the rapids, unable to escape. She wanted
to get out at this point, but it was very difficult. She tried floating
to the shore, and she almost made it more than once, but she would
always be swept back in by the current. Finally, tired and discouraged,
she gave in and let the river carry her on.

The horrible sound of crashing awoke the young boat as she traveled down
the river, asleep in a comforting, numbed slumber. She looked ahead and
saw that the river was no longer stretched out before her. Her heart
sang, as she thought she might be saved. Terror filled her sails,
however, as the reality of what was in front of her crept into her body.
A huge waterfall lay before her, crashing down onto the rocks below. She
knew she could not escape its wrath and allowed herself to be taken
under. She closed her eyes as she slipped over the edge.

Awaking, she found herself in the ocean. Her sails were tattered and
torn, the emptiness in her body stronger than ever. How long had she
been floating along, unconscious to the pain that she was in? She looked
in all directions, frantically trying to find some way to dry land, but
there was nothing as far as the eye could see. The ocean spoke to her,
the sound of his waves sounding melodical and soothing, "Come, stay with
me, child. I shall protect you. Let me wrap my arms around you. Come,
come into my depths and stay with me." A wave rose up and crashed over
the small boat. She came up sputtering and coughing. As much as the wave
had crashed the life out of her, she found it to be comforting. The
water seemed to be warmer than before and she welcomed the embrace of
the sea. Desolate and alone, she allowed the sea to pull her under,
fading into the depths of her solitude.

When she awoke a while later, she had no idea how long she had been
asleep for. She was still being tossed and turned by the waves, yet the
water was much colder now that when she had first come in. The sea,
whose voice was once comforting and inviting, now turned cold, as well.
"Yes, stay with me. I shall keep you here. You shall find comfort in my
arms. You will belong to me. Stay... stay... stay..." The rhythm of its
voice was almost hypnotizing.

The little boat knew she was in deeper than she could swim at this
point. She searched for a way out, trying to find a way to escape the
desolate and frigid waters. She knew she could not weather this alone
any longer. If she was to escape this monster called the sea, she had to
get help. Looking into the distance, she noticed a small, but sturdy row
boat, seemingly empty. "Help!" she tried to call out, "Help me! I'm over
here!" but the row boat could not hear her. She was too far out.
Gathering up what strength she had left, weak and tired, she slowly
opened her sails and allowed the wind to pull her closer to the raft. As
she drifted closer and closer, the rowboat noticed her and offered a
paddle to her. She crawled up into his embrace and rested as she was
carried off to a place she could only imagine. All she could do now was
trust this rowboat... trust it to carry her to someplace safer than
where she had come.

Awaking with a start, she looked around, forgetting for a moment where
she was. The salty breeze blew in her face, reminding her of her journey
and the desolate isolation that the sea had bound her in for so long.
Gulls flew overhead, circling around and around. Her spirit began to
soar as she came to a joyous epiphany. "Seagulls," she thought to
herself. "Seagulls are only found close to land." Her voice rang out in
song, as she looked up and saw a huge boat dock, with the civilization
booming around it. As the row boat drifted her up onto shore, a young
girl ran up to the boat and saw her laying there.

Mommy! Mommy!" cried the little girl. She picked the small boat up and
cradled her in her arms. "Look what I found, Mommy!" She proudly
displayed her new found treasure. "Can I keep it?

"Oh, darling," the little boat heard the girl's mother say. "It is worn
and tattered. This little boat has been through a lot."

"I can fix it, mommy. I can." The little girl's eyes held such faith and
such warmth--the boat knew she was safe in this place.

If you would like to, my dear," the mother said, "then that is fine.

The little girl clapped her hands together merrily and pranced off to
find some tape and glue to bind the boat's sails together. From that
moment on, the little sailboat knew she was safe. She had been carried
home. It was far different than the place she had come from, but it was
still home. She knew there would be far more changes as her life went
on, but having known where she came from, she knew she would never end
up in the frigid waters of the sea again. She knew she was going to be
okay.

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Daedalan, in the year 364 AF.