Distilled Heart

 Every morning the same tired eyes,
By the afternoon the mind begins the lies,

The addictive thirst calling from inside,
Leaving ourselves no place to turn and hide,

To be able to overcome the grip of this addiction,
Being able to press on the fight no matter what the days friction,

With every passing day the heart further distils,
Ever increasing the slope on the slippery hill,

No matter how great the hill there is always a top.
Even with in the darkest days our heart will find reasons to stop,