My days, have I lost in many ways,
The feeling of me freshness, have foam away for it isn't natureless,

My days when everyone is a friend, has indeed arrived an end,
My days when sleeping come, I have a hand to lean on with freedom,

I have lost my days where my tears, are precious,
The days when my bruise, shout, affect another,

When my hands are spotless, when I am guiltless,
The days when none of my words are deceitful, yet colorful,

In the pursuit of conquest, have I made lots of unsaid past,
What a day when my desires matter,...