I grew up to seek fame
but it brought me no gain.
Living a life of tales
Led me to blades.
I ended up holding the blade,
And then I became a warrior.
Surviving became my bane,
I sought to change.
But it placed my head on wandering questions,
Like a sad puppy when it cries,
Tears roll down my eyes.

Should I end it? I asked,
Please hang on!
Mind responded vaguely,
Giving me the tiniest piece of hope.
Same I hold on to,
Hoping it'd someday grow and purify my soul.