The dreams are never what I need them to be
these eyes aren’t seeing what I need them to see
something reminiscent of the summer sunlight
when my heart was alive, in love, and beaming bright

but now the winter decay has set in my soul
a once blazing fire has been reduced to coal
so here I lay, wondering aloud to the ceiling,
“Will I always be entrapped inside this feeling?”

I stay awake watching the clock count away
slowly winding down until the hour, the day
when the sun settles into warmer skies
I’ll breathe it in with these weary eyes