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.