There will be mornings when you wont wake up,

and nights when u wll cry,

alleys you will be lost in,

and even those four walls will deny,

shadows will be fearful and reminscences petrify,

hope will become a synonym to despair,

and heart will sing a ode too dry,

some will stop and some may shy,

but few will be pummelled to survive,

because there will be thousands of gone moments alive,

and wishes and words that will drive,

each one of then beautiful enough to ashore whole life.