It is a well-known fact that
Out of Joy, sorrow is born.

Memories of past bliss
Are the agonies of today,

And some anguishes come from the
Pleasures that could have been.

But since I'm convinced,
I don't seek to convince.

I live within my own heart's cage,
Addicted to painful meditation.

My feelings were never of passion,
But were of the mind's concentration.

Struck me anxiety did, and
Suffering began to oppress.

'Til curiosity consumed my very soul,
And thoughts of Love broke into my dreams.

I awoke anew from such an excited dream,
And with a child's enthusiasm, I went to seek.

But I got lost in Love's endless windings,
And wasn't pardoned for my seeking of relief.


All is now but a week rememberance
Like the multiplied efforts of my knife.

Because when it comes to you, Love,
-Lynch me if you can!- I'm still right.

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