We have our time, our seasons come
and then they pass away.
Perhaps it was too soon for suns
to set, but who can ever say?
My time was never mine, my night
is longer than my day.
But that's okay.

I used to dream of growing up
and all the things that may
reward the twilight of my life,
my labors made and paid.
Instead, I live an endless dusk,
That never brightens into day.
But that's okay.

I had things I used to cherish,
each one taken away.
I want to let them stay back there,
Forgotten to remain.
I wish it were so easy! But I don't think
that I can bring myself to say
that it's okay.

I now know I'll never grow,
At least not the normal way.
I aged up all at once;
that little girl was slain
over and over, unrelenting
until I forgot her name.
But that's okay.