There are days I long to feel, Death's cold fingers around my neck.
There are mornings I wake up to, and I take my pulse to check.
There are evenings where I lie down, and wish I'd never rise.
There are afternoons of hatred, where my inner conscience cries.
There are midnights where I can't sleep, so I watch for that hellish glint.
There are nights I never sleep for fear, that I'd miss that blackened hint.
There are dreams I dream of oceans, which carry me away.
There are nightmares of my day times, and I don't know where to stay.
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