The Day becomes night so quickly,
And the eyes that were open no longer can see.
Reality fades into a blur of confusion.
Pain envelopes me into submission.
Where is the real me?
This is not who I choose to be.
But this is my reality.
Is it my responsibility?
Pain grips me in a raging sea,
of helplessness and cries, "why me?"
But I will rise again, you see,
for this is not what defines me.
I am more than what this makes me be.
With mercy for others just like me.
When no one else believes their cries,
I am the one who knows their sighs.
I show light of hope for those,
who suffer in the migraines’ throes.
Hope that Night will soon be Day,
And grace enough to lead the way,
To freedom from pains' grip and say,
"We made it into the light of Day!"
Next: Delicate Petals
