Each night, we fill our cups with water,

Halfway empty,

As not to disrupt our rigorous lives as we know them.

We sip on this water,

Gazing at the hands of the clock as the hours pass by,

Repeating their regimented routine,

Minute by minute.

We stare through the glass at the storms that pass by,

Watching the water melt into the earth.

We envision ourselves standing with our toes against the shoreline,

Listening intently to the waves that roar in the distance.

We are surrounded by noise in a place that screams of silence.

We engulf ourselves in the water,

And we reach the bottom of the glass.

The emptiness is the simple aftermath of another night lost.

We sit idly by,

As we drown in the water.

If only each morning, we could fill our cups with water,

And embrace them as if they were halfway full,

As we yearn to disrupt the monotony as we know it.

We gulp this water,

And the clock does not strike as it once did.

Time is no longer of the essence.

We begin to brave the heart of the storm,

As the calming mist absorbs into every crevice of our skin.

We allow our spirits to conquer the depths of the ocean,

Not fearing the treacherous waves that may submerge us.

We become the noise in the place that has lost its voice.

We engulf ourselves in the water,

And we reach the bottom of the glass.

The happiness is the simple result of the inherent longing to fill our cups once more.

We stand united,

And we raise a glass half full to a fresh perspective on life.