It hurts entirely
and to be honest,
it's difficult.
Complaining has been my everyday routine.
It isn't nice to feel like a slave everytime you wake up in the morning
and be prisoner whenever you close you close your eyes.

Though I admit, there are times
I opt to see the darkness,
Because in there, there is escape.

A little hope is burried in my stomach
I don't know for how much longer will it take for it to finally lose it.
But it's there firm and not willing to give up, yet.
Because that little hope loves deeply
It doesn't want to give up.

Each time I hear those tiny voices from a distance,
That hope fights back, it struggles.
Because I think that hope knows me better.

It whispers in my prison
when a tear escapes my eyes,
It  tells me to be still while it sings me a lullaby

And when everything inside becomes chaotic
That tiny little hope reminds me
That the war that I'm into right now,
is all worth fighting for.