I spent hours, trying to create this poem, but couldn't form the right words. And then, during one sleepless night (Irony, right?) I scrapped the whole of the previous, and created a whole new one, within an hour. Tonight's that night, and here it is.I yearn for the steady ticking
Of the clock, now laid to rest.
I look for distraction in the silence
To dull the pain within my chest.
Funny, how something you once despised
Becomes something on which you come to rely
And when you’re finally rid of its tiresome tick
You’ll start to miss it.
I’m here again; staring at the fathomless dark.
Waiting for sunrise, listening for the clock.
For its frustrating din gave a chaotic calm
Without which the silence draws far.
But this time it doesn’t fade away.
The thoughts are here, and they’re here to stay
The urges, the strife, the god awful pain,
They persist, like a torrent of cold rain.
The little voice of doubt returns,
Preying on my defenceless mind.
“It’s all on you,” it says with a smile.
It’s slowly leading me, blind.
Then all abruptly comes to a stutter,
As the sun begins to shine.
For now I’m alive, though sleep deprived,
And the voice is sent away from my mind.
I’ll suffer for this, though it matters no more.
Because “one more day” is all I live for.
So I’ll shoulder the ache, I’ll go my way.
And if I’m lucky, by tomorrow…
I’ll still be alive for another day.
