• O woe, is the thoughts the dwell in my head,
    for they are distraught,
    they battle each other for control of my mind.

    O woe, is this still beating heart,
    for it beats for her,
    yet she seems out of reach.

    O woe, is the pulse in my veins,
    for its path carves its way though my body,
    but it is yet to reach its home.

    O woe, is the blood that flows deep within my skin,
    for the river is mighty,
    but the vessel is weak.

    O woe, is this shackled body
    for it tries to function,
    but suffers no results.

    O woe, is this soul that dwells with in this shell,
    for it thrives only on its pity,
    yet it starves.