I've always been lost:
In my thoughts, in actions;
So it seems, a wanderer I've been.

I've strayed no matter what be the cost,
No matter what I face, endless prosecutions;
More than meets the eye, I've seen.

A conflagration in frost,
Nothing more than a raging vexation,
Of the extreme, nowhere in between;

The words I've used, I've disgraced,
Of no form, of no beauty,
Such of that my carelessness;

Such of the wrist vandalised, razed;
As for the love turned pity;
Such for resolves, spineless;

As of the words, played,
As the truth grow vague yet dainty;
This is to the reality I digress.