by Nick Gisburne
I suffer for the secrets I must keep,
The misery I struggle to contain.
They threaten me, remind me, as I sleep,
A careless word would cripple me with pain.
The secrets, undiscovered, soil my soul,
A tarnish on the silver, on the shine.
The life I cannot live, the spark they stole,
Corrupted, cold, will never now be mine.
A hostage to the horror, to the hell,
The knowledge there is nothing I can do,
I speak because the curse I cannot sell
At last, my friend, today belongs to you.
Forgive me for the burden I must give,
The secrets too depraved to let me live.
