To a once condemned side of me, A side that pranced.

Tears that would fall, yet the side still danced.

Throughout the dreary and lachrymose,

A side that wandered - I suppose

A side that may be not weary of its peers,

Nor the animosity it beholds or hears.

I wish to return to that side once again,

To cherish the sun, to be oblivious to rain

Fleeting, as it may be, plentifully fading

I still have hope for

My Awakening.