Always Again

There are days
and then there are nights,

but then there are always days again,
especially when I don't want there to be,
because I grieve this life. This nothing of a life.
Especially when I cling to the comfort of silence and stillness
and woe of the night.

How can there be another day after today?

This is the turn of the tide,
the way the world works,
and the way we live our lives.
Loving and forgetting.
Losing and letting go.

The morning light invades gently and softens my distress.
The world awakens;
It has slumbered.
I have only wept.

Then I move on with my body operating
only to learn the immensity of my potential
to endure anything and everything.