"I saw the sunset forty-four times."

Outcast?—Ever since.
Unhappy?—Very.
Lonely?—Every inch.
"I saw the sunset forty-four times."

The sting of loneliness and sadness radiates,
Invades what I have, all through my vein;
Is there anyway I can make it stop?
Or just like before, I should just gulped back.

Gave my all to fake some strength,
But at midnight, I'm a coward—afraid of heartbreak;
I see my life slowly falling apart,
And all I can do is to stare with glazed eyes.

I've made desperate attempt to escape from this torture,
But I'm trapped in this labyrinth of recollection,
Thus the more I run away, the more it will hurts.
Oh! how I dread this impending doom and gloom.

I figured life can be and will be so ironic,
You sleep for refuge only to woke up into nightmare,
You can't shield yourself from sadness without shielding yourself with happiness,
And the time you feel most lonely?— is also the same time you must have to be alone.

“One day," you said to me, "I saw the sunset forty-four times!"
And a little later you added:
"You know-- one loves the sunset, when one is so sad..."
"Were you so sad, then?" I asked, "on the day of the forty-four sunsets?"
But the little prince made no reply.” ― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

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