Trapped behind the Sun
My grandeur mocked by solitude [bad word] bereaved of all joy
Dreaming of an impossible chance

I suffocate yet I live
And can't get rid of this curse because
In this prison of aspirations
My hands are tied by hope

The knell of my forsaken dreams
Screeches through fallen sand
Deep underneath serene streams
Where [bad word] wishes stand

I feel the pain from my world [bad word] my soul in its grip
How pathetic have we [bad word] Lost in dead poets' words

Curse this rotten pendulum of doubt!
How can I strive through this life
Aware that my only remaining [bad word] Is knowing that I shall find hope?

Just a tiny speck of dust
In a desert of nothingness
No purpose behind the [bad word] For we're all mirrors of flesh

What if death is my escape to infinity
What if, cleansed of filthy hope, I seize this key
What if i [bad word] a shadow or i rot?
Still, my dreams cannot live on when I am not

It is certain that life has no meaning
But we live as if it has one