Open your eyes,
And meet the creation of your self-pity:
The one left to rebuild
From every second you've thrown away,
The one left to carry your torch
When the path ahead lay in shadows,
The one who will suffer
When the weight of valiance is suffocating.
And while I may find the strength to carry on,
I cannot carry this burden much farther.
But somehow determination prevails,
Either driven by aspiration
Or a devotion to idle love,
Neither of which bare the certainty
That my persistence was not forlorn.
Only the lingering truth,
That even the selfless will be betrayed.
This is what I have to give you,
What's left is lost,
For you will light my pyre,
Now make me a fucking martyr.