In life, perhaps, I fear no more a thing,
But pangs of conscience frighten my weary soul.
In night’s deep hush, I pray, my voice takes wing –
My heart aches sharp, and tears begin to roll.

Some are no more. Their souls to heavens fled.
No chance to meet, embrace, or greet again.
What is life? A fleeting flash...
The wave runs fast, by breakwaters split and spread.
No words remain to answer for the pain.

Forgive me now, for I was blind with pride,
Why did I fling sharp words into your face?
Forgive me, those I wounded in my rage,
Back then, life’s feast seemed like eternal grace,
And I felt not the sting of conscience’s bite.

O wisdom, soothe this sorrow in my breast!
In Lethe’s stream, no soul may enter twice –
To you, departed, much I owe, confessed.
The voice of conscience screamed in night’s still air...

Lethe – the river of oblivion in Greek mythology.