It must be so tiring

To stay cold admiring,

It must be confusing

To win all by losing.



It must be quite hazardous

To take ever overdose,

It must be so violent

To fulfil your main bent.



It must be disturbing

To live always curbing

Natural desires,

Multi-coloured fires,



Everything that's happening,

Even what is binding,

Living just live's opening

And already winding.



Through the time, indifferent

To what we are praying

For, though our referent

Never does displaying.



We must follow our path,

Which is ever tainting,

Though the line, the one to pass,

Will be most dismaying thing.



After this the path's unclear,

Full of light and full of dark,

Wrath, and gore, and strain, and fear,

This is our final mark.



Let's forget about it -

Leave it to oblivion,

But nohow can you quit,

It's my strong opinion.