Night turns into day,
Day turns into night.
I feel myself sway,
As I hold onto the light.
The night numbs me,
Frighteningly cold.
The days rush by
As I grow old.
I prefer the day
When the sun shines.
The night can be fey,
Dark streaking the pines.
Night turns into day.
Day turns into night.
Days become gray,
I have no more
strength to fight.
Ready to tackle any hardship.
Then comes the crack.
The one obstacle we can’t overcome.
It will break us.
Or make us stronger.
The choice is ours.
Source:nontemporary
This is just a bump in the road.
Life can deliver us a toad.
But we must keep our hope intact.
We know this as a well-known fact,
“Every cloud has a silver lining.”
I refuse to hear any more whining.
View of Mt. Fuji from Mt. Tenjo on a cloudy winter morning
THE FIGHT
Night into day.
Day into night.
I’m swept away
As I hold tight.
The night numbs me,
Making me cold.
The days rush by
As I grow old.
I prefer day
When the sun shines.
The night is fey,
Dark through the pines.
Night into day.
Day into night.
Days become grey,
No strength to fight.
Water surrounds me.
Icy water.
I’m pulled deeper.
Waves drag me
from the shore.
I swim.
I tread water.
My head above the water,
I will survive.
The world twists and turns.
It squeezes us dry like sponges
until we have no strength to fight.
I can’t keep my eyes open any longer
and watch the mad parade of colors.
Hurricanes, poverty, violence, shootings.
Red will soon hide the greens and blues.
Madness will descend and replace the stars.
The moon will hide its face from the night.
The sun will no longer send its rays of warmth.
Mankind will be alone to fend off the darkness.
Twisting, turning, squeezing
until nothing remains of mankind.
Hit me.
Strike me.
I won’t fall.
Soak me.
Shake me.
I won’t melt.
Sink me.
Drown me.
I’ll still be here.
The mask has cracked.
I can’t keep it together.
A fight to be perfect.
A battle to be accepted.
The mask has cracked.
The game is over.
View of Mt. Fuji from Mt. Tenjo on a cloudy winter morning
Night into day.
Day into night.
I’m swept away
As I hold tight.
The night numbs me,
Making me cold.
The days rush by
As I grow old.
I prefer day
When the sun shines.
The night is fey,
Dark through the pines.
Night into day.
Day into night.
Days become grey,
No strength to fight.
Source: 
SUSANNE LEIST 