Lamentation
I made a wish, a difficult one to fulfill. I wanted you to build a dam that can carry all the pressure of a great deal of water. It was beyond your capability. The responsibility was too hard for anyone to carry. You worked day and night, making me think you could fulfill my wish, but...the dam collapsed. The waves took you along with it. You have washed away along with all of my one wish. I looked far and wide; I almost myself. Eventually, you returned, but things were different. We no longer see each other the way we used to. I feel ashamed for thinking you could build me a dam.
You used to be my symbol of greatness, but now, when I look at you...you remind me of everything it is I'm insecure about with myself.