From behind the dreary half moon;
Shedding fears so preposterous,
But all the music in the sky,
May as well go unheard;
For none can awaken me,
From an acquiescent drowsy trance.
Shallow waves of solitude,
Wash over me; but I,
Enthralled remain; and so does,
The deceptive world ahead.
Condemned for life to serve a purpose,
Labour fit to kill,
Just to procure cheap benefits,
Hymns are sung for the departed.
Ransacked hearts stay broken;
To never be mended again,
Conflict remains in the near and dear,
To never acquire a revered stance.