Having abandoned the pursuit of love, God, let your judgment cast me into the abyss, and dear death, guide me to your somber gates. In the absence of affection, I surrender to the desolation that beckons, yearning for the solace promised by the cold embrace of eternal rest.
If God, in His creation of harmonies, crafts every soul with its counterparts, then perhaps I stand as a solitary note, a broken melody left unfinished, echoing in the void of an incomplete existence.
In the silent echoes of my solitude, I can't help but wonder if love is a melody meant for others, and I, a mere spectator, left to the haunting silence of my own heart.
In life's empty realm, I expect nothing more,
A good-for-nothing existence, fate's bitter core.
To be nothing is all I foresee,
In this void, I dwell, endlessly.