Battles Fought Behind a Restless Sleep

Tonight, my sleep will be restless.
Long gone are the days when the earth’s heavenly lays:
Be it nature’s parade at the daybreak,
Or the peaceful stream of a creek
Used to keep me awake,
Brimmed with nature’s sweet sounds who gently speak
Of piercing-through wisdom and conscience,
That sharpen my tongue and mind of holy defiance!

O, how I swear those trees used to be full of grace!
The blinking stars aloft, how sprightly they danced!
Now all those wonders have lost their weightꟷ
My eyes can shoot no more arrows of magic.

O, Lord! Tell me what songs shall I sing
That now the river in me has gone extinct!
Swallowed by the pitiless burning
Of my swiftly ran-out youth, who’s left despairing,
Tormented by the mighty time’s ruthless pace,
Left me empty-handed, nothing but shadows of trace
Of weak, blurry images
Of supposed to be lasting memories.

Too soon, I avow that youthful glory has gone,
A phase and period of time
Where the larks of romance and passion are the throne,
And the vision of dreams seems so clear and sublime.

It is still a mystery,
Whether this mind could ever endure this dismay.
But from this moment and place of disarray,
It’s hard to see beyond this utter cruelty.
So let my fading dreams become your guiding spark,
To ignite the fire within your youthful ark.
Chase your dreams, my friends, your journey's just begun,
Make the best use of time, while the youth’s still at dawn.

While me, let me clash with the storm tonight unveils.
It sure won’t be an easy fight to win over,
But alas, in tomorrow or the day after,
There’ll be a new hope revived, a newfound ship to sail.

No longer seeking graces lost to time,
I'll sculpt my own, defying nature's rhyme.
No mournful lullabies shall fill the air,
But anthems bold, a symphony of dare.
Let youthful visions fade in shades of grey,
I'll paint my canvas with rebellious clay.
For age is not a sentence, but a call,
To rewrite endings, stand beyond the fall.

So sing, old heart, a melody untamed,
Embrace the shadows, where new wonders are framed.
For though the magic's form may shift and change,
The heart remembers, and its song remains.