What a fool I am to follow my feelings.
I am to be a miser for the rest of my days.
I have no will to be what I need to be to be loved.
What a fool I was to put my heart on the butchers block.
I thought I was safe, her eyes told me so.
I have no energy to continue the questioning.
What a dolt, he that would allow himself to be tricked by a siren.
He who is me,
And I am he that is me,
But I am dead it seems.
I need to be reborn,
but I do not wish to keep in this existance.
I remain too calm,
no revolution was started with a broken heart.
I am lucky this is my dilema,
I am lucky I am not dead, again.