Minutes creep, Hours sweep
the shackles become too tight
Bounded by you day and night
Here comes the Shattering foe , a seething woe
I don, as I walk a heavy load
A precise weight: Ten thousand yoke!
It holds for me a heavy score
For I “Fall upon the thorns of life I bleed’
Phantoms of my sleep
Countless and boundless they stretch upon a shrouded course
The burden of long past ordeals I carry, I bear
Like the very scarlet letter, I stand here, I wear
The hearts of many, with bare hands I tear
A fleeting goodness, a howling soul
The past wounds of countless souls,
is what I! Me! The Misanthropic wore….