I climb these steps,
moss covered steps,
uncertain of where I am going,
only knowing I need to go.
for I am depressed,
and sad,
how I hate to be depressed,
and these steps are soft under my feet,
a soft comfort in a world of harshness,
and somehow I feel protected.
I pass a ledge
hidden under stone,
so I lie down and sleep
on a moss covered bed,
and I know
that I am here,
and I am safe,
protected.