Where Have I Gone

I used to love the morning, When silence echoed against the rising sun, Whose light is but a vivid warning, That when it sets, the dark will be later done. I used to see the sky, And find hope upon its horizon, And when I did I'd laugh and cry, Eagerly awaiting to learn and wizen. Now I hate the morning, Its silence is a wicked reminder of the sun, Whose light is but a timid warning, Of what dark has set on which I have undone. Now I see the sky, And find fear upon its horizon, And when I do I only cry, Anxiously dumbing down as darkness widens. When tomorrow was once my destination, I journeyed onward through each day, And now that yesterday is my ambition's fixation, I'm anchored in nighttime's stagnant sway.