LAURA KARNIVA

I’ll always have my name,

I’ll always have my face,

But as time unveils,

My velvet skin will wither.

And the age I have known,

Only lasts for a year.

It’s a shame to think,

That all those buffeted wishes,

Never came true.

 

I’ll always have my laugh,

I’ll always have my voice,

But if I cry,

I fear that I may drown.

For these falling tears,

Pour from the eyes of a bitter old man,

Set in the face of a child,

Who curses the entire world,

From the seclusion of a window.

 

I’ll always have my heart,

I’ll always have my soul,

But as envy grows,

My words are twisted,

Weighed on a scale of pain.

Featherlight compared to others,

Who hardships conquer and define,

As I am constantly reminded,

That theirs are all imperious to mine.

 

My name and face,

Voice and laugh,

Heart and soul,

I won’t always have them all.

 

So I’ll search for my underlying thing,

 

My Hypokeimenon.