The days rush past, the months and years too,
We dwell in dilemmas, where lies are fed and truth is few.
Where wellness is a battlefield, constantly under siege,
And divine love is scoffed at, dismissed out of intrigue.
Negativity flows like a river from every crack,
No answers forthcoming, just shadows, pitch black.
In solitude, we stand, forsaken, as time slips away,
No hope for tomorrow, no joy in today.
Yet, this cycle of despair that echoes each laugh,
Is but the reflection of a transient path.
These trying times, like shadows, will pass,
And from these ashes may rise clarity at last.
Feb 1
Feb 1, 2026 at 4:13 PM UTC
The days rush past, the months and years too,
We dwell in dilemmas, where lies are fed and truth is few.
Where wellness is a battlefield, constantly under siege,
And divine love is scoffed at, dismissed out of intrigue.
Negativity flows like a river from every crack,
No answers forthcoming, just shadows, pitch black.
In solitude, we stand, forsaken, as time slips away,
No hope for tomorrow, no joy in today.
Yet, this cycle of despair that echoes each laugh,
Is but the reflection of a transient path.
These trying times, like shadows, will pass,
And from these ashes may rise clarity at last.
