I sense abandon, but could it be that I myself have abandoned?
I never had that one person to be my beacon
Never had a father who could have told me better.
So I wrought my own fate as a faithless fighter
Finding friendship in fearless fantasies.
Call it careless abandon to sweet melancholy.
It took a thousand miles and a while to grow tired of those wiles.
It took me a thousand miles to take a step in the wild,
Void of pride.
And like a cub without a pride,
I see the world gnawing at my flesh,
Tearing away my essence like vultures on carcass.
And I wonder if my fate in this world
Is bound to be carrion for birds.