Slow Agony of a Dying Orgasm

We console ourselves by delusion
We are bewildered and confused
We do not know what to hold on to
We are ashamed
We are strangers to life
What we shall hate
What we shall love
What we shall admire
We are ashamed
We are strangers to life

We feel disgust towards the living life
Night is a trap
Darkness is relief
Night is a trap
Darkness is relief
We console ourselves with an illusion