Despair is queen of her own bleak bourne
Scattered through its wide domains
Tiny windows hanging in the void
Like mirrors left and castaway
Feel the eyes of despair upon you
Feel her hook catch and snag your heart
No feeling left or any last promise
No feeling left only this painful passion
Fearless through the gardens of grief
Neither I need sorrow or relief
I've got no feelings left
Her clammy cold skin, musky and pungent,
Like the skin snake crossing through your throat
As tangible as the old velvet, as a shredding rake-thin
Nothing is left untouched, nothing remains pure
I've got no feelings left
Feel the eyes of despair upon you
Feel the hook catch and snag your heart
Fearless into the gardens of grief
I've got no feelings left
"...the most faithful daughter of hate ‒ despair. Yet
hate is just inverted and twisted love, but despair if
nothingness and emptiness inside. Everyone of us has a
little of that, as for myself, well, I think I've
no..."