1. Silent, my people, for a month, concealed was I,
No question from you, no news to me thereby.

2. I strayed beyond your world, my grief and gloom grew,
My nights were restless, and my days, ennui.

3. Apart from you I dwelt, from crowns afar,
Seeking, though hope was dead, excuse to try.

4. I’d bear my share of trust its weight would break
My will, and shatter my tenacity.

5. The lands were filled with celebrations, but
No sight nor sound of joy for me thereby.

6. And if my hands could seize the chance, my words
Would be sincere advice and gems thereby.

7. No more I say, though in my soul tomorrow
Are memories of yesterday that try.

8. I’ve borne afflictions to their destined end,
Unsure what fate’s surprises yet apply.