I had tasted failure more than the numbers of my age,
Failure was the colour of my effort,
Dejection became the metaphor of my soul,
My soul was dying just like my body,
Depression was my colour.

Depression was my foe,
I knew that I had to fight my foe,
I became a warrior,
I didn’t just wrestle,
I became a fire; I burned my foe into a charcoal.

- oliver