I hate the night,
That's when they come,
The takers, as they're called,
I feel them creeping into my mind.
At first, they linger in silence,
I sense their eyes keenly observing,
My thoughts laid bare before them.
Then, the whispering starts,
And my eyes surrender to tears.
Lonely tears trace down my cheeks,
A reminder of why they appear,
To pilfer my joy,
Leaving me a mere shadow of myself.
Tonight, the battle they claimed,
But tomorrow,
Tomorrow,
Tomorrow,
I shall triumph in this war.
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