Fair

Who am I?, and why do I wander
In this rigid creation, and will I ever admit,
That I am not the leader of anyone
Nor the companion of someone
Nor the reason to bleed tears
Nor the cause to chasing dreams
Nor the vain object of someone's wish?

But as hard as I try to end this,
Nothing comes out, I am aware.
Everything is hollow, and mean, lost its light
And nothing is shining, no stars in the night
And nothing awaits me, and even so,
My blame it is entirely, I can't say it though
And desperate I am not, but I should be
But how can I hate me,
When I'm not a rescuer
Nor the last link of sorrow
Nor the first object of tomorrow

Nor everything others are,
No, I am not,
And I deserve no such thing as mercy,
I know,
For curtains are reaching the floor,
No one applauds, I am aware -
I'm not a delight, not close to fair.