There, I see the silhouette of a man,
Who's constricted in bandages and pain,
By misfortune of fate was overran,
While only embraced by the murky rain.
Once, his life was adorned with gleaming light,
Accompanied by his treasure and muse,
Who helped him with success throughout the night,
But is now for the golden-world no use.
He strolls the streets in utter confusion,
Something he was the master over once,
But this time he fell for that illusion
Who before provided luxuriance.
  Once the master-magician of the sweet,
  And now a hopeless madman on the street.