Dawnbreak

The dark hour goes out, washing away and leaving me behind. A husk, I cannot dream of a time when I can rest. Every night welcomes the tale of the awakened, whose mind toils away, a labor of pain and suffering that yields no fruit. Voices and music invade the plane of sanity and conscience, garbled and twisted like a vile concoction that I have to drink. There are no good thoughts in this realm, no hope and no reason to keep going. There is only a yearning to sleep.

But it hurts. Everything hurts.

A full moon amidst a starry night sky

I think of the opportunities I missed, the people I mistreated. My life bears no redeeming quality, and there is nothing I can do to become someone better. I will never be like the ones that came before, a testament of life and joy; everything that I have failed to be. No. My borrowed time has been wasted, spoiled by the touch of a grotesque being devoid of light. My self is merely the support someone else needs before they regain their footing and leave. This is my life now, and perhaps, what it always has been.

Sleepless are the nights that come and go, mocking my inability to join the rest of the world’s slumber. To forget is to heal, to dream is to fly. But I am no dreamer. At the end of the cursed interval, the light of dawn marches to burn my eyes with its fire. I am blinded, embraced by heat and anger. The horrors of the night persist and grow stronger as Helios approaches. Whatever strength I thought I carried abandons me, the shadow of something less than a man.

Sun behind a strike of dark clouds

There is no hope. There is no sleep. There is only pain and a lack of sense. Empty words from a detached crowd try to guide me through the suffering; a futile attempt. Solutions only work when one is strong of heart. My will is weak and feeble, unable to carry itself through the trials of an indifferent and cold existence. We all know it’s meant to be. Life is for the young and clever, and I am old and foolish, led by ridiculous notions of antiquated virtues that serve nothing but my ego.

Despite everything, I try again. The knowledge and experience I have amassed throughout the years pale in comparison to the creeping anxiety that rends my skin with its fingernails. The word Insanity has waltzed every now and then, teasing like the learned gentleman who is confident in their inevitability.

Tomorrow never arrives.