There are times when I feel “all right”.
I call these times my Period of Light.
But when I feel badly and want to cower,
A know I’ve entered the Darkened Hour.
Though for the most part my life is bright,
My temperance cools as day becomes night.
And a shadow of doubt falls over my mind,
Signaling that the loathsome hour arrived.
I am not sure why it comes as it does;
Perhaps the feeling simply decides it must.
For even I tire of the constant façade
Of showing a smile when I’m not really glad.
During such an Hour, I am subject to wallow
In all of the bitterness I cannot swallow,
Or bare my evil that the day kept inside,
Releasing from chains my proverbial Hyde.
And only through struggles and Heaven’s grace
Is my Jekyll restored to his proper place.
But this does little to comfort in the end;
For when night returns, the Hour will come again.