Solitude

Getting up never used to be a chore,
Yet, today just seemed to be a bore,
Slowly dragging his body upright,
He vanquished the vestige of the night,
By reaching out and drawing the curtain.

The golden rays streamed into his den,
Bouncing off motes of dust,
Revealing the form of a pensive soul,
His furrowed brows did make it known,
That he was man to whom did destiny dole,
More than a fair share of cruel hands,
And that his star now just dimly shone.

Yet there was a sparkle in his eyes - an expression of hope,
And of the resolve to live through this phase - to cope,
To weather the storm and to emerge stronger,
To not shy away from his calling any longer,
He steeled himself - he has a long way to tread,
With solitude the solitary companion.