Wallowing

Am I crumbling inside?
Has the winter arrived?
Thick clouds fill up the sky…

Alas! some vicious oath
Just binds me, but I loathe
To submit to one imperial eye

Shall the winter arrive
Will the lone crow survive?
Light can’t pierce through the sky…

Because some vicious oath
Makes my doom, yet I loathe
To bow down before one solemn eye

Somehow the autumn blaze
Seemed more an antique maze
Than a sword I could wield, were I weak

With these lachrymal stains
On my hands, I remain
Denied from every haven I seek