At dawn you wake with unknown spirits they start the day with you
Going for your jugular, pressing hard into it. Making sure they leave their imprints there, you're grappling for air, freedom. you're crippled with fears.
At noon, your fear grows with the hours. "What if" there's a lot of it. Even before you start doing you're condemning. Those spirits are in the background barking and jeering, you're lifting that baggage of burden left with no note, while locked away in the prison of responsibilities yet they're jeering.
At night, you retire with the hopes of dropping them off In your Dreamland, maybe set yourself free.With hopes of being happy in the morning but at dawn again, they wake with you this time with a dark cloak over them and everything.
It's like you filled your cup with nothing. All these dawns and noons of running after it, mending it and hoping and hoping yet you filled your cup with nothing.
You're waiting for the time they said was best to come
But you feel you may not reach home.
©nnenne
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