Oh! It’s another splendid morning,
A morning with its rekindled died hopes of yesterday,
But the fear, Yeah! The fear still lingers on,
The sun upon rising from the east,
Goes down, and would go down,
Scepticism, scepticism, oh…, scepticism
Why doth thou crowd my thought?
The day, why not tell whether thou be mine?
Why doth thou watch me pant to nothingness,
The sun settles in the West… an exposition to
Stillborn dreams, aspiration and plans
Why doth thou all of a sudden frown?
A frown, that has not crowned a struggle,
My comforter, affirms only but my fears,
Sorrow is of the night, joy cometh in the morning
No wonder, the dawn presents hope, the dusk; a dupe,
Such pervades the day, and night,
The star a hope, Immeasurable miles away,
Hope, what becomes thou essence?
While the night eludes me the keys of passage.
