Sad is the night that walks past me Sadder is the day that ignores me Sad is the evening that pities me unendingly Saddest is the morning that makes me feel queasy Giving me the reasons to pass on quietly Silently stealing hopes from my mental armory Patiently waiting for the end of weariness Lurking around me is the Angel stealthily Another harvest it desires, not dearly But anything that makes surplus its kitty Observant it sits across my eye line Giving me solace, as it stares glowingly Biding its time, for it has aplenty It walks around, invisible to everybody Stopping only to understand the misery The pain, the suffering, the angst, the agony Sad is the night that walks past me Sadder is the day that ignores me Sad is the evening that pities me unendingly Saddest is the morning that makes me feel queasy