Shame woven into me, to escape the things I've done. In shadow it reminds me, it's a battle that can't be won.

Fingerprints along the walls, that match my very hand. It holds to gently or grips to tight, and lost is the magic sand.

Were where you all that time ago, when I needed strength the most? Now my past self haunts me, like the lingering of a ghost.

Never is there a witch when you need one, to cast a magic spell. Circles drawn and cauldrons bubbled, when I saved myself from hell.