• Withering nights diminish my lost thoughts,
    And I lose all my will to take a breath.
    The moon mocks in all the pain it has brought,
    And the sun makes me appreciate death.
    Stars shine with love, and for that I despise,
    And now they pierce my empty heart with pride.
    Unshed tears rain down from my loveless eyes.
    They drown my hope of love for that has died.
    Love is in the air and it makes me sick,
    And choke in the invisible poison.
    My soul was not made to be the one pick,
    And my heart, though strong was not made to win.

    My true love is that which is not to give.
    My heart truly has not begun to live.