As the morning sun rises higher
The dew burns off with the fog
And before me is a panorama
Lifting me from this mire
That firmly holds me back
Completely trapped
A stasis, holding pattern
Which leaves a bitter taste in my mouth
Of failure, of desire unfulfilled
Of uncounted loss
I look at the brightest days
And I can't let go
Of all the things I do
Of all the things I say
By midday I feel the heat
But I hide inside
Avoiding the bright
For some reason my mood
Matches that of the fading twilight
I let the glories of the day
Become swallowed in the failures of my pride
The cost of my mood has a high price, that of my life
