In another life, I think,
In another life, I think
of happier things and so on,
But that is not my life
and cannot give me any comfort,
Hence i am lonely, left with
sodden disappointment,
And hopeless and helpless,
All solace in me empties
as if fulfilling my wishes
of a life farther than time.
The present rises in a rage,
Feeling abandoned and betrayed,
My dreams are only mocking,
Mimicking more innocent days,
The nights are teasing,
Tasting bittersweet sin
in a quiet inexplicable fashion,
I have descended easily
drunken and drowned:
in company of stranger friends,
I have raised hell mistakenly.
Herein I give in to my deeds:
What's done is done and it is what it is,
What shall be, shall be without any exception,
Not for my cause nor for my effect
but only, simply a solemn consequence.
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