What peril in this grievous testament, Fate, in its mischievous irony Cruelly toppled thine health Why "creator", why deprive me of the most joyous of sense? I godlike among men, in both art and thought Sensitivity drains upon this misunderstanding Mine and theirs to view, Nature is truly to look upon the inevitable All might be tomorrow, that is the great wish That it has or ever will be granted, blind illusion Albeit, aloneness is the prize of genius, passions attained cause Songs to become silent And so, I am heir to bereavement, and threnody my mistress alas It must be, yet the muse embraces me, her warm heart to stoke this inner flame And drown out the mortals and petty theology with heroic composition I'll not suffer the scans of kindred feeling, allowing this lowly world to Aggravate me momentarily Only to escape to my melodic bliss, creativity thrives in bitterness My veil is untouchable, talent unattainable, "I am that which Is" Loveloss and scorn left to bleed through hammered counterpoint Indulge my vast ambition, defy horrific fates Banished from a poisoned life, to shadows A looming backdrop to the paintings of our lives No tears shall fall from hushed eyes, glints of slender, lovelorn cries Gather the drops, that they may cease to sink and Deny the earth of that addictive drink With years adoration will simply grow, I'll reach worship from funereal woe Never attained an equal release, to my melancholic masterpieceTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
