Post Two: A Man's yesterday will never be like their tomorrow.

A quaint disposition,

casts over one like a cloud,
no signs of wilting,
- I can no longer stand proud.

Venom of the soul encapsulates now!
Will I locate the lucid light?
Should I be optimistic that the dawn will sever,
through this elongated night?

This menace is perhaps a violent pleasure,
since we are born in others pain & perish in our own.
The journey is exasperating,
ensuring a groan.

Despite wounds oozing with the fear,
We stand strong!
Every man has their secret sorrows,
the silence is immense – forever long.

It seems there’s a reason for everything,
change is inevitable – What can we trust?
Part of us is taken,
with an evil thrust.

What we leave behind us is part of ourselves,
yet our image is retained.
If we cannot change the situation,
our new perception is proclaimed.

For a Man’s yesterday will never be like their tomorrow.