Born in this time, a sorrowful decree,
No longer seeking you, but the lost me.
This city's lavish gleam, a heavy shroud,
My Mother, deep inside, I'm breaking down aloud.
But silence holds my pain, for hearts are frail and cheap,
Oh Mother, can't you see, the promises I keep?
Perhaps no grand design, my life has yet unfurled,
The gentle ease of breath, forgotten in this world.
Let judging eyes accuse, with words both sharp and keen,
They haven't seen the mirror, or what it holds within,
The countless times I've scorned, the face that looks at me.
And Death, it turns its gaze, refusing to be free,
I yearn each afternoon, for its embrace so cold,
Yet in this room, at night, my story's still untold, I am alone.