In the garden where hope used to bloom,
A shadow crept, a harbinger of gloom.
With every dawn, it whispered in the ear,
A voice that only spoke of fear.
It dulled the sun, turned blue skies gray,
Promised that joy would never stay.
It choked the roots of dreams, now frail,
And spun dark tales where light should prevail.
Pessimism, the thief of flight,
Clipped the wings of those who might.
It sowed its seeds in fertile minds,
To harvest doubts of every kind.
But here, where the shadow casts its blight,
A flicker remains, a stubborn light.
For in the heart, despite the dark,
Hope still kindles a tiny spark.
So let the shadow linger near,
It cannot quench the fire here.
For even in the deepest night,
The dawn awaits to reclaim its right.
Lyrics, Sentiments and Me 