maybe the reason I am here
is the reason I weep,
silent all these nights
like an owl bleeding white,
sorrow it reeks
peace it seeks,
white is the color of my mother
telling me I selfishly brag with honor,
I sailed through the stars
to find a place on mars,
dug a grave miles away
to let my soul solely sway,
maybe I don’t need a guardian
since I find enjoyment in hiding.