There are the days,

The sun's incandescence is so bright,

I feel immortal in its radiance,

Nothing can touch me.

There are the days,

The stratosphere is so thick with clouds,

All light is engulfed by the ominous billows.

Will I see the sun again?

Or am I doomed to live,

In perpetual darkness?

They say "it is better to light one candle,

Than to curse the dark",

But what happens when there are no candles,

Or matches to light them with?

I pray and hope for the sun to show itself;

My mind deceives me,

I wonder if it really ever existed.

It is a faded memory,

Playing like a dream so far from reality.

The yoyo of highs and lows are so intense,

I feel as though I'm losing my mind.

I have no sense of what is real,

I begin to wonder why I am here.

The most frightening part is,

When I no longer care.

Losing that will to fight,

I'm the terminal patient on her deathbed,

Waiting for the angels to come take her away.