When the wings of darkness descend on your sunny world, you do not struggle, you do not tear at the shroud hoping to pierce a hole and let the light in.
You have learnt that only Time can defeat the Black Lord, so you sit and wait, counting the seconds, minutes, and days, waiting for the blackness to recede. You repeat the same, familiar exercises in futility. You embrace despair and gloom like old friends, and listen to their morbid tales with the heaviness, the utter weariness sinking into your very soul.
There are two worlds: the one within, and the one without, and both of them are real. You are the window, but the curtains are drawn right now. The only consolation is that sunrise is but a night away. Till then, Dildaara, stand by me.