The rage so burns him from inside out,
He staggers wildly as ashes spout.
The pain is so mighty it rips heart apart
And blows bleeding pieces--he can no more start.

Have mercy in him, you vengeful godly creatures!
Why did he get soul that's so bizarre in features?

Why can't his passion be ever returned?
Why do the flames of hell have to be burned?
He shivers in fire that bites him piece by piece!
How long shall he wait for the state that gives him peace?

Bits of his heart lie torn to the ground;
There is no stir, no faint glimpse of sound.
All lymph has ceased to pound and pulse and throb,
Yet more and more blows of last life's spark him rob.

He's finished, there is no more feeling left inside;
As a well that water bore, when dry has to hide.
He no more staggers, for there's no support
To hold his spirit in vain Earth's resort.

Yet he has hope--knows he not where it springs.
He loves even more, no matter what it brings.