I now know what I have become
Like a ghost with a dying shadow
There and yet not...
A contradiction
How fitting a description must be

Dreams of my creation
With the truth behind my birth
Born of love's petty rivalry
To a parentages utter disgrace

When such apologies are wrought in little
And the blame has found a home
A man-like child was grown from this
But such efforts still found no ground

Would gladly be called a sinner
If not this soul was kept as pure
I now know what I have become
A bastard son who...
should never have been born

 
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