Inheritance of the Forsworn

Look at this tapestry that I've weaved,
Webbed with threads of illusions,
And all of the alibis I've heaved
Upon you in hope of collusion.

Gaze into the scars that lie in my eyes,
The fires within
That once flickered like night skies,
Now burn with furious guilt and misery, for I have spread myself too thin.

The words that force through my lips
Are disguised confessions.
For I am no longer piloting my own ships,
My soul is not among my possessions.

My hands are slick with blood that I can make no attempt to wash away.
Blood split at another's command,
Memories that can only fade after the passage of days.
Seems I inherited Mother's black hand.

I sought to run away, and I tried to escape,
But all in vain,
No man can outrun fate,
I see myself fall repeatedly like the rain.

Unable to rise or strike back,
I stand here, obedient,
Bowing down to every order of attack.
Not blind, but attempting to be insentient.

Hiding from the horrors I've performed.
Raging at my plight,
Watching my heart grow more deformed,
As it is eaten away at by my inability to take flight.

I've more than filled the boots that I once heaved curses upon.
Wretched and broken, I no longer see a man,
Just a soul darker than Hell's dawn.
I look in the mirror and gaze upon the hateful son of Morzan.