Thoughts of Theresa

Behold our enemy! dark despair In her hand a scythe, of power uncompared It slices happiness and destroys mirth To destruction and depression it gives birth... She corners her victim, in a room so bare -  Powdering walls reflect the dark scythe's flare, She doesn't hurt him - oh no instead She shows him the worst thoughts in his head. At first he grasps around for a happy thought But all around he finds nothing but rot He falls to his knees, his mind terrified But then a small ray of light catches his eye. He turns around and looks aghast As a sword materializes - he sees sees his past He sees the smiles of faces so dear And memories made - of hugs and cheer. He smiles and takes the sword so dear  And turns to face his despair and drear But to his surprise she is nowhere in sight And the room is now lit with the sword's warm light. And thus spoke the sword with a booming voice: "She's gone - you see, you made a choice, In darkness you remembered the beauty of life