When dawn arrives,

the sun will rise,

and the light will shine so bright,

trying to greet the fleeting night.

 

It leaks gold in most places,

and fills eery dark spaces,

and yet it cannot reach me,

so sad it cannot reach.

 

The sun continues on its way,

to bring upon another day,

but when it sets beyond the hills,

darkness overs, and more it ills.

 

The pitch dark places you'd never thought,

with rigid walls and icy spots.

The places you'd have never known,

'cos for you the sun always shone.

 

But for me it's agony,

the darkness always covers seas,

my mind can never be at ease,

and here there's no such thing as please.

 

Yet you wouldn't know,

as for you it's white snow,

for you it's a peaceful meadow,

and the sun shall always glow.

 

Never shall you understand,

the pain of my lonely hand,

with nothing to hold and only to stand,

on the freezing ground of this dark, scary land.

 

Where the wind shall growl,

and hunger shall howl,

the desire for anything,

taken by him that to me will scowl.

 

"It will be better," you say,

while each passing day,

eats more and more

feeding the darkness who wishes to stay.

 

It is a lonely world, this one I live,

the one where the sun cannot exist,

for darkness is its alternative,

while my life is utter loneliness,

in this absolute, solitary, sad abyss.

 

The next dawn approaches and struggles to find me,

"Please! I am here!" I shout,

but perhaps I've forgotten,

there is no such thing as the word 'please.'

For this place I live is for agony,

and hurt you see?

 

So never shall the sun find me,

the darkness shall always be,

apart of the lonely land and sea,

that makes the world a casualty.