joy cometh

how i hate the

bogies and

daymares that

keep me from


loathe the cobwebbed interior

of my

telltale heart

on nights such as

these i

cry and

pray myself to

the shores of


crushed under the

weight of

my darker side

but joy cometh

the sense of

despair is a

necessity of


if i cannot see

how far i’ve


i cannot fathom

the heights to which i

have been


and remain despondent

but joy cometh

after anguished

outbursts and

confessions of


comes quiet

comes peace

comes sleep

and joy

cometh in the morning


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