The clock sighs its last breath, and soon, this weary dance with time will loosen its grip, freedom stands just beyond the ticking.
What a long day. Happy Friday! 🤍
The Fray
I held the days like fragile thread,
But every tug just left me bled.
Hope, once loud, now whispers low,
A ghost beneath the undertow.
And in the dark, I start to see,
Even light grows tired of me.