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I'm lost
I drift through days, enshrouded, soft, and bare,
A specter in a mist that shifts and fades,
The mirror grants a face I scarcely bear,
Yet in my soul, a boundless yearning wades.
The name I claim, does it in truth belong?
Or is it but a mark...
A specter in a mist that shifts and fades,
The mirror grants a face I scarcely bear,
Yet in my soul, a boundless yearning wades.
The name I claim, does it in truth belong?
Or is it but a mark...
