From troubled mind,
and serpent's heart
leaks a shadow that tries my soul.
My frame is weary from bearing it
such is the weight of The Sorrow.
Silent is the sword that cuts,
cleaving to the bone.
Leaving wounds that never heal,
only do not show.
our shame and guilt are things we cling to
like lost children to a mother's grave.
Only if we release our failures,
will we at last find peace.