A man is a man of his words,
Is this true, my only fear.
How I shone but they never saw it.
But when he spoke, even the birds knew it.

It feels so dark in here,
Stars shine but not yet there.
Clear streams lose their way,
They get mixed with dirt and get as grey.

Why are they walking southwards,
Pushing me through their way.
Working under the tables,
They don't give me a good pay.

The wrong man is in charge, please help.
Can you see the spark, are you there?
Alas! There is no use trying,
And here comes the end of my fateful might.
Where goodness feels so criticized,
I lost myself in that blindfold night.