Wherefore didst thou mutilate rituals? A poor soul hath taken away her own life? And wherefore doth my mother goes along With hurricane eyes?
I never lost my reason... Till now 'Tis gone, maybe in thy funeral If I'm right, thou shalt become an angel With great wings thy love I shalt protect
'Tis hard to believe what I see Art not these many daggers knifed in My body enough for my very sins? And now, one more, mixture of Tears, pain and blood
Oh dear Ophelia Wherefore hast thou abandoned this heart? Crazy and far away I know I was But I had to pretend madness to act