Is the life appointed for us to come?
Time created to comprehend to depart?
For my pain from depression to flow from?
I've said nothing more in this aching heart...
She, my open mind, my bare soul shoddy,
Been enclosed by her arms, soothed from motion;
Carressing tightly to her frigid body,
The beauty's poison I drank like potion.
Trapt by endeavers shrouded in the mist,
All around me the world struck in despair;
Delicately, those cherry lips I've kissed,
My moistened hand through her lited hair.
On which that I left to serenity,
And drove me to a path in sanity.