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.