Nights aren’t for you in love,
But for the loners like us.
Who try to hide from the conflicts of the world,
Insomnia isn’t just an utterance.
It’s a recession we deal every time.
Every second feels like years to us,
Loneliness isn’t a feeling, it’s existence,
In the facet of being in this world.
Tears don’t plunge to show vulnerable,
It’s a statement written quietly,
With the stars in the sky all dark.
No mattress to slumber,
it all decayed with the zeal to be chosen.
No addition comes behind,
In yet another gigantic night,
Which is outrageous to survive.
Anxiety took away our identities,
Though, nights inhale the sorrows.
We aren’t willing to survive awake,
But there is no end to our awaking.