Given up this treasure that I called gold,
Timeless, ever-lasting, eternal.
I made all these figures,
Worth my time, made them gems,
Embellished them and offered them care,
My interest backfired against me,
I always imagined it; they never needed me,
I was merely a boost but they were never,
No, not ever planning on coming down,
Stooping to my level of humility,
Which seems non-existent,
With this hate-filled desire to reclaim,
What dignity has been lost,
But I see no point after a while,
And just let it pass as a silly illusion.
No love calls for moving on,
Letting go and finding strength in something new.