It is the death of another day.
As the sun sets far away.
I lay in bed in fear and awe.
Will the sun rise again?
It is the rite -
Of day and night,
Of dawn and dusk.
Of birth and death.
That feeling of not knowing,
The next turn to take.
Will there be a tomorrow.
What if nothing?
I cannot help but wait -
For sleep takes over.
A kind of death.
Inevitable. Necessary.
Will I wake up again?
Will darkness turn into light?
Will I prevail over nothing?
Does it matter?
I trust in the rite. I hope,
That dawn will follow dusk,
Day will replace night,
Life will survive death.
But it is only a hope,
The day after may never be
So now, we must be free.
And hold on to nothing.
Gordon C. Cardona – 17 October 2010
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