Here I'm faced with the decision of gods and devils:
a single, poor, and lonely moment to test my evil.

My mind is starved, and my heart aches.
My unfortunate soul begs, "prithee, a break."

When next I wait; when the hour says I'm too late,
I could have molded the promised nights with your fate.

So now, the water inside rises to your eyes,
and still upon this subject my judgement flies.

But we will survive this,
forever shaken, and however less our bliss.