A day like this will not be missed,
until he lies next to his grave.
Wishing for all the time that he’d tasted,
yet in the midst of pain, laid waste to it.
T’was a struggle like many others,
under a blanket of self-doubt, he’d lay smothered.
Second-guessing and re-contesting himself.
Labeling himself as broken,
inhaling doubt between every word spoken.
So he looks for a fix or a band-aid solution,
but one of life’s tricks –
is that there’s no absolution.
Just effort required, to remain strong and wild.
Healthy mentally, and physically.
To fight off darkness ritualistically.
Does he exchange his power to cower
and to bathe in his remorse,
or shall he live his day tomorrow
as if he’ll never die for sure?
The world is a scary place.
Life comes with many fears.
Grieving is for the living,
while the deceased lay rest to tears.
Another existential night,
treading the line between shadow and light.
Just trying to keep his heart wide open,
for himself and all his loved ones hopin’
the best for him,
because they don’t think he’s broken.