Hard as it can be, irrelevant as it may seem,
my filth lured my innocence.
In a pitch-black ribbed cave,
adulthood lurked in the aloof abyss.
I stood on a cliff, my limbs wavered;
but the desires to clinch on adulthood
urged me to leap.
An endless fall followed.
As the image of tranquillity faded in the distance,
what was once a dream,
that is, to grow,
became a haunting nightmare.
It was a leap of deceit,
for I was once a dove,
only to turn into a featherless raven.