I look back over the memories,
and the sorrow blazes brightly.
It shines in my mind, like a blood-red sun,
and its despairing light kills hope.
The pain deep within me
weighs heavy on my heart, soul, and mind.
I struggle valiantly against its weight,
but vain is my long fight.
The battle wages on,
wearing at my very existence.
Promise and laughter are its prisoners of war;
hopes and dreams its casualties.
Who am I but a single warrior,
set against insurmountable odds?
For who can extinguish the rays
of a brightly burning sun?
Yet I stumble along,
to try to fry my heart.
For it is the struggle
that keeps my spirit alive.