I sit alone on cold winter nights, thinking of how my life became dreary

Is it something that I had just realised? or is it just another theory?

Am I content with what I have in life? And is life my only query?

There isn’t a year that goes by, without my body slowly growing weary

With age strength is hard to come by, but you do tend to become briery

It is on these pitch black nights, that my thoughts become leery

Even the stars are absent from the skies tonight, so is the moon who is so deary

I do yearn my younger days, but my eyes quickly become teary

Nothing but the good in life counts, the rest is to your soul smeary

Only when day light breaks again, does my mood finally become cheery

Saleh Ben Saleh