When food has no taste, the air thins away, Dreams stir clouds that choke your day. Your soul shrinks, just not to be, Still your being resists to leave.
Enough - you say, of this rainy, dreary, colorless grey, It's time to wake and oust this play. It never ends, just coils in the shade, Takes your strength and makes you pale.
Reaching down, down the grave, Or looking in the sun, above its rays, Hopeful minutes pass away, And promise you now that you'll live once again.