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.