Awake with my thoughts and dreams to be flourished onto the empty sheets in front of me. The Sun is almost out in a few hours and the moon is saying it’s goodbye as it takes it’s departure from another hopeless night.
5am and poets await what a new day brings, will today be the day where we cease to write or the start of another chapter. We gather our ideas and convert them into feelings that society couldn’t bare to explain. A burden so deep, to sense emotions off the desperate and mixing it with our own.
5am the lonely hour, the longest hour.
The limbo between sunset and sunrise.
It’s like time is sick of us, as we sit here and write words out of fears, madness, and the unforgotten years.