In black depth, where darkness creeps,
There lies a soul, where sorrow sleeps.
A tragic figure, lost in the night,
Haunted by memories, dimming his light.

Through bleak and barren fields he roams,
Where echoes of cheers have turned to moans.
A specter of passion, once bright and bold,
Now trapped in a tale, so grimly told.

With every kick, a whisper of pain,
As he relives the glory, now in vain.
The echoes of victories, lost in the past,
Now haunt his soul, in shadows cast.

In lonely stadiums, where silence reigns,
He mourns the loss, of his once cherished gains.
For football was his heart, his joy, his pride,
Yet now it’s a torment, he cannot hide.

Through misty eyes, he watches the game,
A prisoner of fate, he bears the shame.
Poor tragic soul, in sorrow’s embrace,
May you find solace, in a kinder place