Everyday, with an absence of haste, without fail.
I stare outside my window.
After the sun sets.
When everyone rests.
The afterglow of the sky mathces the glow of their victories of the day.

I sit alone, all abandoned.
Inside my mind, my dawn never arrives.
It is always dark and hollow there.
There lays a side of me.
Bruised and bare from the beatings of the wide world and its shallow lies.

My life is a battle.
A battle of winning certude and defeating duebity.
But my sorrows are of variety.
Alas! It is a war I shall never win.
Like an alcoholic who's only love is a glass of Gin.
Oh what an everlasting misery I am in!

The dawn shall never arrive, a voice in my head said.
There shall only be melancholy and dread.
But sometimes, somewhere, no matter how dreadful I've been,
My heart believes, that hope and happiness must come like a tide.
I must hold on to that string tight!