Your words have hit their mark
Spun out of malice and malcontent
You take no prisoners
As you stroll the field of my defeat

I would have gladly parted in unison
As you call my bluff
And now, who is the bravest?
We both depart, half of what we were


Our shadows have no form
Amorphous and soulless
Buried in self-pity and loneliness
Will nothing arise from this destruction?