Clouds, floating round the existence. Milky in their colour, Drifting slowly, like a dreaming sea. Then out of its hole, comes the God, Dressed in black, black with white swirls twisting round it like a vine. And the peace, is heavenly. But slowly, as the God looks up, As if out of nowhere, A dark, black cloud drifts aimlessly along. Turning round and round, as if trying to find a comfortable position. And the God slips back into its hole, Frozen with fear and curiosity. And suddenly, watching from its hole, The God sees, standing tall like giants, on either side of the cloud, Life and death, balancing each other out. And below this cloud, Flies the earth, Like a bullet in slow motion. The life swings, like a pendulum. And the cause, a fifty-year reign. Death swings, And, a two second life. Fair? The word has no meaning. And like a pendulum, the Gods, keep on swinging. And behind life and death, As large as mountain, but as visible as air, Stands Depression. He swings, over, and over again. And the cause, a ten year old life, ended by a piece of rope. A decade of unemployment and starvation. Riot police, service with a smile. And enough self-sorrow, to out-live the existence. If the depression stays, then the bullet, soaring through the air, will hit the existence, And the existence will crumble, like a shattering pane of glass. But in this dark, black cloud, The God, watching from its hole, sees a flicker of light, a ray of hope. And as time swings on, the flicker of light turns into a god, brighter than the sun itself. And the God's name, Happiness. For there cannot be good without evil, But happiness, needs no depression.