I'm losing every bit of courage
You left me with a rage
How do you expect the pain to submerge
I'm neither a saint nor sage.


You were my north star
Shining through the thick
You were my herb tar
Curing me, when I'm sick


I've been patient all along
I've endured the pain life long
My story is the saddest song
Sung with the beat of thorns on thong.


My dreams are deception
What happened to me seems abdication
With untidy water, is my ablution
I'm a soul now self neglecting, performing self reflection.

Neither a saint
Nor a sage
Just a soul patient
All his age
A reflector, with pain as wage
Thrown after use,like a bandage.

Neither a saint nor sage.
Decades of pain as age.

Purified by the tears
The wanderings alone throughout years
I'm a mountain of wisdom
Awaiting to be known
I'm neither a saint nor sage
But a dervish unknown.