I am bored to death
Of this desire to play with
The heart of human child
For it has never given me  
Much amusement.

I am bored to death
And my soul, empty;
My soil vessel broken
When I wished to mend the splits
Lingering, lingering in your heart
Yet you stood up
Without my embrace.

I am bored to death
In this small town owned
By Mother Solitude where
Only angels speak to me,
Where I am hurt by my fault
My fear
My grace I have disdained;

I am bored to death
Of death; for the question repeated
For the blames I have done
For regrets, come at last
Redemption, sinned like ballad

I am bored to death
Of death
Whether it be hell;
Or heaven of days—
One I shall go
by the end of the day.