Constantly Living Days As If They Were Nights

Loneliness is more profound during the awakening of day while it's cheerful sounds spread harmony with exuberant sweetness; I listen to them and perceive new senses... creation is a beauty on which serene thoughts lay. How precious and daring is life in its humblest and virtuous appearance, in its exquisite glory in each sunrise! How joyful should be my song of praise! The transformation of images enables more fondness in souls, to pause and think of an omnipotence so plausible and real dispels ignorance. I wait for nightfall, not to hide and shiver; constantly living days as if they were nights can deny me all the thrills felt seeking stars: showdows threcherously conjure endless fear. Many decide to swallow the bitter and fatal drink to cleanse their soul of afflictions and impurities; it's their last painful scream with a sorrowful wink... what consolation do they find in death recalling defeats? Miserable and deplorable voices of enmity fade out as I enter the valley of pretty flowers and mellow whispers; bubbling water from rivers refreshes immensely; sunshine abounds while the swift eagles pierce the blue of the skies. Written on 9/13/2016