I mourn the countless deaths my soul has endured,
To gift this shell of the body a new day,
I remember the endless tears that cleaned my eyes,
Phlegm building up my throat and nose,
Crying my heart out into the silent nights,
Like a siren song to the ghosts to haunt me,
To get a break from being haunted by my past,
I burn my present to light my way into the archives of life,
Where I once felt warmth in middle of those haunting memories,
Maybe the evil you know might give comfort,
Compared to uncertainty of what the future holds,
The tears dried off, the sun is back up,
The bed is not yet warm, ghosts have left,
Past is yesterday, new day awaits, tomorrow lurks,
Something holds me strongly to the bed,
It is not sleep, it never came to me,
It is the soul who had died another death,
Taking its time to be reborn to run this body,
Towards another iteration of what we call a day.