Few are the days allotted us
On youth's resplendent heights
For soon we fall, and fall we must
From innocence, to hellish plights

From morn to noon I fell,
Alas! From noon to dewy eve
  And still do I perceive
Descent towards stygian abyss;
                             I grieve
For days bygone and edifice which,
   with Daedalic splendor
I wrought in primal hours
   To this past, I now surrender

With childhood's cherub wings thus shorn
From Avernus cold, my prayers are Bourne
With broken lips, towards skies azure
The myriad gods I do implore

Uplift this loathsome imitation!
Coal-eyed creature of negation
Wont to build a heaven in hell
This torpid fate I must repel!