My Darkest Hour
My Darkest Hour
With wounded pride, disillusionment and
Jealousy for bedfellows, I felt as old as
The world and breathless as a stormy weather.
The situation which appeared as a small cloud
Blew up into a mighty hurricane sweeping
Away the world I knew, leaving me with
Weariness that comes when hope had
Fallen asleep.
There were too many things to think
All sorts of thoughts circled about in my head
But the ones positive dived down and drove
Tearing claws into my mind