Trepidation deluges my pneuma in its state
How did I ever ebb this far?
It’s like I never sensed accomplishment
My reason? Such frailty in making.
I can’t ever invent an inkling of a use!
But in the case that I could, here I’ll be
Faltering into a trance
Of conventional panic, but dreadful still,
Dull pain in a rush,
As I know I lost my love,
I’ve never accomplished anything
Because I’ve never had the courage to