I have put away my sorrow like an old shoe

Worn out and shoddy

But surely envied by somebody.

 

It was not a low thing

Time spent with you

Not a bad way to lose my youth.

 

It was the choice of our lives

And I still have mine.

Still rid of gray hair, rotten teeth

Hollow bones and cracked feet.

 

It is not a small thing

The woe that unfolds after suffering

A great joy

In this dark place where I go

to be with you.

 

I am among the fallen

The ones who share my grief

My soaked wings wrapped around them

Who so wanted to be free.