Hekssoster

I'm becoming weary, my precious life. I now know you don't give, but you derive. The gift you give us with the time of age, is not a gift with just one face. The growing wisdom, sometimes called truth, is trying to break and shatter my youth. As i look in my reflection i see my joy wither, and as the days pass by, I'm turning bitter. I'm becoming weary, my precious life, it's not the living that you derive. It's my joy and wondering, that you replaced by sadly pondering. I beg you please take away my wisdom, cause then you'll take away my pain. It's the burden of knowledge, that makes me go insane.