I've clawed at these worn walls. The cracks widen, then disappear again. Resistance is a cruel, false lover. She teases, laughs, and crushes you whole. I’ve thrown fists at the cold rot, but it never flinches, it just spreads, loving itself, fat on my failures. And still, I hum my death song. You, who walk after my ashes, listen— I was shadows; I hid, I wailed. The sorrow was my home, my hunger. But I sang for a world I’d never touch. In that grave air, I left a note. Learn from the darkness that bears me. My pride in the scars I wore; the song, in every bitter ending.