Each day is an endless cycle of morning and night.
We'll see thousands of mornings and nights and grow old.
And one fateful morning, or night we'll be rigor Mortis.
Maybe in this lifetime, there might come a morning which I'd run out to embrace, instead of shunning it behind dark curtains.
Maybe in this lifetime, there'd be a night that I'd want to sleep through entirely, instead of melting my eyes, trying to stare at the moon through my ceiling.
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