Heavy hangs the albatross
Around my neck like pearls.
Passed from an elder,
To a little girl.
Knowledge may be a gift,
But it’s also a curse,
Chasing you around like a pelvis bound purse.
Heavy Hangs the albatross,
And I know my fate.
Not told by another, but rather innate.
Like the Good Shepard knew his,
And across the lands it was sung.
Not a cross but the albatross about my neck was surely strung.
Call me not your savior,
for I am doing you not a favor,
but leaving this dark world for the soulless to share.
There’s no one left to talk me down,
because I no longer care.
Heavy hangs the hope that my name brings back a memory.
That its hated ring forces them to see,
the injustice committed like a barter.
A point of fingers and a trade
made me the martyr.