They linger somewhere,
somewhere hidden so there’s no one who cares.
You try to fight back against them,
but you end up looking like a mayhem.
It should’ve been a blooming garden,
yet it’s just dirt like all it has ever been.
You still try and water the remaining,
“Failure” is what you’ve been hearing.
You can’t sleep that well, I know.
I’m afraid to the dark you’ll go.
At least, the sunset reminds you of life.
Then that’s then you fight back against the strife.
I try to fight back.