Setting Sun

There is a certain dread that creeps up in the wee small hours;
Steals the sleep from my eyes, and whispers dark words in my ears.
Then, grey dawn creeps in like a breath of stale air;
While I fight with the bed sheets and grapple my fears.

Fear can be conquered, so I’m told, kick the black dog, work on your soul.
It’s easier said than done, some battles can’t be won, with platitudes;
Certainly not in these dark and weary latitudes.
But let’s not dwell on my night time fear, take a second, take a year;
Take whatever it takes, to get on top, release the breaks.

The river flows into the sea, you can’t push the river up stream;
Let it flow forward and forget your black dream.
Life is short, don’t dwell on fear;
Hold it close, hold it dear.
When all is said and done;
Every day has a setting sun.

Illustration Mouse