Some mornings it's a struggle to awake;
A violent debate between the will
And sense of duty, one of which must break,
Granting the other passage, as they fill
The selfsame space: by both the body's driven,
Now to stay sleeping, now to rise and go.
Therefore the body, when the mind is riven,
Marks the deciding vote, and it says no,
It will not rise and greet the awful day
Whose hurtful beams already bruise the eyes;
Let day come in and pull the sheet away,
Else body will not ever choose to rise.
But duty always wins, for will too knows
The world still turns, whichever path they chose.
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