A feeble being lived an impotent life,
What runs a person through seasons of life?
It has been a constant question,
Burning deep down in the corners of my heart.

I never believed in demons,
Until the character I own manifested,
My creations are so unbelievable,
The source is within but unknown to me.

I impaired my beloved,
I was never good at anything,
Chained in my guilt,
I never confronted my reality

My avenue was vulnerable,
I served miscarriage,
I was alien to self,
I was unacquainted talent.

When I lived like a swine,
When my pleasure was but pain to others,
When I acted in the darkness of my secrets,
Without the slightest bit of emotion.

I could never earn your heart,
But you kept me close.
Your Love was faithful,
I was just but an evildoer.

In my winter of life, in solitary.
I cannot start all over again,
No memories to hold close to my heart,
What can I do?

I have lived not to be remembered,
What can I do?
Like day time, life has been short,
Now it’s dark, what was I to do?