Depressing Hours

sunday until the a.m that will come
the next just feels like a final one
glimpses of she who pains me
twenty four hours and seven,
just a non-connection.

dark hours residing inside me
clinging to memory, some from my Almighty.
these thoughts glide inside and out
on this desolate mind, woven from doubt.

how life depresses one
when all these hours feel like none.