.
.

In the tumult of youth
I forgot about your promise
Of our tryst
My love for live overflowed
In the death of your splendor

And now as I make haste
Towards my own death
My pride breaks, breaks and breaks
Under its own weight

The clamor of truth
Beats steadily in my breast
As your love
Tears into the sheath of my pain

The sin is mine
And I weep at my unworthiness
.
.