No secrets, they're all gone.
You vainly drown in what once used
to be beautiful.
The regrets that haunt you, too,
spring from deep - a fountain woe -
but it's not impossible to drink.
You endure every day
like any day, any way,
your ailments compound
until the weight of your mistakes
jolts you awake
and you feel it
turn into something new.
To heal, to delight,
to do what is right.
Insincerely held roles
to make your small world rotate.
But what is one to do
when there is a whole lifetime owed to you?
There it waits - a fountain woe -
and it's not impossible to drink.