The Waking Hours

The waking hours
Of the day and night,
Creep in and out of sight.

The hours of each day
Can be lived with doubts,
Can be gone without the shouts

When it’s dark
When the light goes out,
The world itself is gone
And all that’s left is you.

The mornings rise
Awakens you with the mere stray of light.
This light has direction, pathways.
It is you who chooses the road you take.