Worry

In this day, there was truth 
Thinking of wasteful years drowning in blinded tears 
Wasting away
Atrophy takes to life; infiltrating the perceptional view
Left to vices the world has taught all that makes you
Continuance of all the same faults

In tomorrow, there is no life
And yesterday has expired 
We all live in increments of twenty-four hours
This is where all desire should rest
Not on future or past

Sure is death when life is relying on the next breath
Not holding the moment's gifts 
Unseen; dream the dream
 What is left when worrisome, death awaits new breath 
Nothing seemingly to have one sad
Ragingly mad, unknowing what the next day will offer

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