Not our best selves, some nights.
Uncertainty hangs heavy,
a weight unknown,
a path unclear.

Words fail,
a tangled mess,
unable to capture
the feeling's essence.

Lost, adrift,
uncertain of self,
uncertain of place
in the lives of others.

Yet, even in darkness,
a comforting truth persists:
loved, remembered,
held in hearts.

Sweet memories,
gentle whispers,
a name on the tongue.

Rough nights, harsh nights,
pain without reason.
But they pass,
always they pass.

And return,
in softer form,
a sweet surrender
to slumber's embrace.

Better will come.
We will be better.