Now, I came back to the old grave of my heart-
Oh, how long it has been buried away!
Now, I just risked to revive again that heart:
That cost my senses astray.
What could hold the burden of all my years,
Even the hope of death is dim-
No mate listens, no mat has ears:
This is the world versus him.
It died of burying his living mother-father,
His first loves as a hope for happiness-
Then, it calls his conscience to sit together:
Ever remember the hurt of loneliness.
Visiting the dead calls to become one of them,
My deathwishing head follows the heart-
Why didn’t they listen: Don’t go back to Bethlehem:
The end is siamese with the start.
Now, a senseless person’s sitting at the tomb,
His madness wishes to be together-
Heartless, bloomless; only the gloom:
I wish to kill all worldy pleasure.
Whether his mouth is moving or not,
His heart and mind are dead, tho-
Both get goosebumps by an echoing thought:
“I was never meant to hurt you.”