It cuts,
Deep...
Not a corner left.
It cuts even through my soul.
I feel the sorrow,
Yet it cannot contain.
The pain i feel is deeper than a taint...
I feel the burn,
It grows in me...
Deeper and deeper,
It cuts through me...
I pull it out.
I hold it in my hands.
I wield it as my own...
A sword to others,
To cut them with...
A weapon for many,
I wield forthwith....
To me it shall always remain,
The same as it once was....
My Despair....
My Acedia...
And me its Forsworn....
