Lamentations

I hear no sound, no music profound,

But the beatings of my solitary heart,

A lullaby calling thus slumber,

“Sleep, fellow, sleep.”

A thousand sweat I shed, so did

A thousand drops from mine eyes,

To no avail I toiled, just to be

With the beatings of my solitary heart.

Slumber brings me to her lap,

And I thus spoke – “Too weak to sleep,

Yet weaker to see the stars, ‘Cause

‘Neath them lies not pleasure,

But Pain; smiling, a tear rolling down his face.”

Once was there mine story,

Now scripts another upon my grave,

No tears shed, not a heart woeful,

A tortured soul doth squirms.

And hence I know to call a day,

Where nothing is bright or gay,

To tend to the music my heart doth play,

The beatings of my solitary heart.