Did I ask to be put on trial,
before my eyes held their first tears,
as my soul swirled in the depths of nothingness—
a mixture of stardust and ash?

Had I begged for a challenge?
Was I cocky and bold?
Or was it all a punishment,
paying for crimes of old—
a past time, another life?

Did I demand to do it twice?

In the beginning, I felt so undeserving.
Is that why now I find peace so unnerving?