I want to make one final wish,
that you might look upon my life,
and call on time to bear witness,
to violent start and sad finish,
and pity me who knew not what,
but tooth and claw and knife and fist.
I make that wish with all my heart,
as feebly as it sometimes beats,
that you believe I tried to do my part,
that I tried to make some poor amends,
and end the cycle pain repeats.
Too late to take away the grief,
and all the hurtful deeds I've done,
for I never cared, nor gave relief,
to those good souls deserving some,
but nothing good could come from me,
who lived on hate and loved no one.
But I can make amends through suffering,
and show I also have some hurts,
and these sorrows have no end for me,
they make a prisoner of my soul,
my sentence life, my just deserts.
PS: Thanks for reading and perhaps listening.