A Plea to Forgotten Ties
Individualistic philanthropy is a virtue to a spark,
A charred ember of your simmering soul,
Before me are those who surround my being,
My subconscious is present as I often drown myself to become what they require,
A sponge to their water,
To the oceans of their misfortune, I abode,
Days grow longer and I find myself no more able to absorb their words, the sea,
Upon my falter to the bottom I have gone,
Am I forgiven?
I could no longer obtain the torture your rain poured upon me,
My eyes, broken eyes,
My ears, deafened ears,
My advice oozing mouth, sewn shut,
Every cut and burn that taints my paper skin is thanks to myself and the glass of life,
Am I forgiven?
Broken and torn to shreds of who I may become,
I peeled skin from my bones to cover your scars,
Am I forgiven?
For I left all too soon to start anew,
For I forgot my roots in the collection of catastrophe this life of mine had been,
Tell me, I plead,
Am I forgiven?
For I have forgiven you.
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