The Barrow

I must humbly atone for my failures again and for the myriad ways a failure I've been.

I've poisoned my well with treacherous ink; I'll never be free of this god-awful stink.

Some fresh spring water could clean some things through. Though I'll always be tainted, it's all I can do.

Maybe someday when it's far in the past, my soul will know respite and solace at last.