I am hated with what words you coerce me,
A pinnacle far out of reach from my fingers,
They claw at the sky and you say a swift prayer,
And follow me not! Let the naive one beware.

I am lost by what hands that would hold me,
A touch and a whim that I will never defeat,
How memory, oh cruel mother, makes weary,
My heart and my head know not dear dreary.

If I wander and wonder and wile at my time,
Do you think that my mind will be changed?
Evolved into heavenly happiness, oh please,
I am sore-shorn and shoddy, held tight on a leash.

My anger, what wrath would betray me!
Oh, worry and world-wear that tear down all,
All palace of my protection and throne of my king,
Do you ever ask once what these eyes have seen?

Between beautiful and beyond all of your helping,
Whilst loved and adored; I am adhored and alone,
Kept silent and sullen while you make me a price -
Golden love layers many lies, all naught but your vice.