But he sits with himself at 4am
When the sun can’t rise
& the moon on the opposite side
A perfect dark for thoughts
He then visits the no light corners
The hidden storms in his mind
The bloody rivers of hope
The dying dreamland
The withering lilies of love
The thoughts of ending his life
“Would it be?…
Would it be the worst thing if I died?…
Would it be possible to survive?”
