Pale fragment, reaching out as a blur,
A mist of euphoria clouds a raging mind,
The grey gently touches my being,
As flames of decadence burn all the pages,
Regret seeps down the cracks of memory,
Filling every crevice with bitter remorse,
The daylight hours grow blinding and weary,
As the blackened night stretches off eternally,
I look onto the sunset with weary eyes,
Waiting for the twilight to die,
Yet the sun burns ever brighter below the horizon,
What if I were to pursue?
Would the sun let me catch it?
Would I be burned in its wake?
Or would its warmth envelop me with jubilation?
To let darkness devour my being would be madness,
And such would tear every hands away from my grasp,
To struggle determinedly through the dark,
Tripping over my own feet to reach light,
Letting obscurities in the path topple clarity,
But to throw that all away for a terrifying hope,
The way I see at the end frightens me to the core,
Yet what scares us the most is all that is worth fighting for,
For out of the blood, sweat and tears,
The endless nights and relentless days,
Only then can a true gem be mined from amidst all the rubble of life,
To reach out towards the daylight passing,
Grasping at air that drifts through my fingers,
Though I would run until my knees bled,
And wait until my very eyes could not bear the wake,
Even if only to catch a glimpse of that sun one final time.
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