Smitten

I'm in a cruel and mysterious world, Where pains and affliction are served cold, In the farthest edge of the nights, Leaving fathomless depths of suffering to tear me apart. As if smitten by a sudden spasm, I'm awaiting my summons to the eternal silence. Fettered by poverty and toil, The frosty thraldom of winter is all over me. My hurrying thoughts clamore for utterances, As my whole frame seemed collapsed and shrinking. In this breathless chase of life and survival, Nature seemed to revel in unwonted contrasts. Palpitating with numbness and wounded sensibility, I'm wrapped in a veil of lassitude, Again, stamped with unutterable and solemn woe, But the paraphernalia of power and prosperity won't die in me.