Sigh
This sensation;
As if I've performed
The done salvation
And now became reformed.
I can see you petty,
I can see you fade,
Disgusted do I heave
From what I've almost made.
Silent and content,
Dazed do I ascend,
Above the mortals:
The realm of weak.
What you see in colour
I consider bleak.
I would wail eternal,
Again would break and die,
But I can mask me formal;
With a lone despitful sigh.












