Once again the dawn will bring,
Fresh memories of bitter tears.
And the fact, that every time the Sun
Rose, it brought back fears,
To haunt you, till you thought
They belonged to somebody else.
They were not yours, they were just
Treasures collected at somebody’s expense.
A new day will bury the old,
Yet every time you place a flower
On the grave of your smothered dreams,
You will see the ruthless hour
Take you back to, from where you started,
The same point under the Sun,
Scorching to death, the eternal darkness
Shadowing a mind, on the run.
© Jaspreet Mann