To ponder
The thought of "is it too late"
Sleepless nights
Bewildering dreams, well,
People call them dreams
I call them nightmares
Stabbing me through the back, to my heart
I can smell the burning blood.

But it can only burn until it turns to ash
And then it floats on a soft breeze
Out of sight or reach, to see the world
Completely, from a different view

There is only darkness...
...until you find light.