Another sunrise

year after year,  day after day

my zest to excel is dying away

the passion is declining

the warmth is slumping

the desire is starving

the thirst is perishing

the words are eluding

the speech is limping

the expressions are dousing

the writings are fading

is this the start of an end

is this the onset of demise

is this the sunset of life

or is this another sunrise?

Year