nothing feels exactly right
for i rush between the days

it's hard to see your future's bright
when it's muddled in so many ways

The shortest most frequent time is the present.

Oh queen! One of unjust passion
who leaves a gaping hole in my chest
With your two hands
One holding my beating heart
And the other a knife-
That rains down-
Down! From the heavens and impales with such sadness
With such ferocity, the damage is done
And with a single blow, the passion is over
Gone! As if never before seen again...
And in an instant, you destroy the living being that once loved you
Like Marc Anthony, a Roman conquerer
Whom to you was a lover, an overseas companion
Who captured your heart and womanly desires
Was just a mere mortal, in the end...
Undoubtedly imperfect for your ambitions
It pains one, oh dear Cleopatra
That our ways will more than likely
never cross again.