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.