The struggle for happiness a failure.
Yet, the anguish to feel is its immortality,
in turn torments my soul.
To the orange sky and the stars of dusk,
I pray the Creator hears my heart's yearning,
for it longs for salvation from its own hollowness.
In my heart's perpetual delirium,
I realize happiness is what I made it to be—a struggle.
To the Creator I implore on my heart's behalf, for the loving grace...
of an angel.
