Your heart knows no light,
Your soul, no life,
Your eyes, filled with spite,
Cut through me like a knife.
But I see in them crushed hopes,
Endless sorrow, cruel jokes,
I see all that could have been,
And all the loneliness within.
Should I deny your existence?
That pain you mask with cold indifference?
To walk this world knowing but scorn…
I would rather not have been born.
Yet i still pray, and wish and wait
That your hard shell might one day break
And I can greet my friend once more.