• I stood standing,
    as if not on land or water,
    nor by air or fir,
    should not elements deign me deeply heartened,
    should calm never take me,
    or fog betray me,
    should lightning strike me,
    I will rise perhaps,
    scowling as,
    I feel the burns come back,
    What of pain,
    seems so overwhelming,
    should not pleasure be so profoundly warming,
    when the two don't mix,
    We know them both,
    yet know not either,
    But what doe sit me,
    you mix pain and pleasure?
    To love and hate,
    or is it to die of sacrifice,
    should one ask,
    then denied should be seen,
    the world within,
    as ending dreams,
    do call upon,
    endless stars,
    and all day long,
    All night,
    we slay our ideals,
    so that the world is in the endless chaos,
    the storm fogging our eyes so much.