I am here alone
With melancholy and despair
Hang my hat on the rack
Pick up the small sliver of silver stone
Deadly piece of weaponry it is
I am giving up
With no regrets and no goodbyes

There's my laptop
There's my pen and pad
And there, alas, is my story
There's no story to be written
Which hasn't been written before
A hundred times over in men's minds
There, then, is my story
Not unique, not one of a kind
Just mine

Pick up the pen
Scribble a few words
Then throw it across the room
Hit the egg that balances
But still it stands
Its wings balance it
The halo keeps it there
Its feet let it stand
My wings are clipped
Halo is stolen
My legs are broken
Only the horns remain

Look to the west;
A great city, filled with souls
Look to the east;
Vast ocean waters teeming with life
Now look down upon yourselves
Take it with you that you should…
You should…
Perhaps.

There is the danger in being alone
Madness
It follows on the footsteps
Of loneliness and despair
There is nothing to be done
Do not weep; it will be kind
The door is there
Just point the way and it shall go
But then you will be alone
Again.

Maybe the voices will come back.
The insects might return
Wind's soft voice perhaps will whisper once more
Should you beg for their company?
Beg for their return?
No, it is far below your dignity
If only time will allow you to wait

I am here alone
Of the darkness there is nothing
Nothing
Better it be like this than like that
Nobody in the nothingness
No more stories
No more tears
No more nothing