Some days your life becomes dark; fading black,
Because all you see is that.
People ask if you are feeling blue?
Oh, how you wish that were the colour you could choose.
Strength, what you had has gone, lost.
Breaking glass becomes tougher than rocks.
The tight grip on life you held, aside to wither,
Those once surrounding you in warmth now make you shiver.
Oh, to wish you were merely feeling blue,
Thoughts blackened, clouded, yet so clear in view.
And if one could say anything, anything that could be spoken,
You would taunt, I’m not nor near being broken.
Spirit low yet valiant is the demeanour,
You are a warrior—keep fighting the battle in your arena.