A feeling of tiredness overflows

from me, and in my daze it bestows,

upon a dreaded visage of false hope,

a future soon met with a well-tied rope.

The rope is long and slender.

A device so normal soon used to render

myself beyond the bounds

of a horrid mortal coil and resound.

My soul exchanged into a lower place;

something far removed from something so simple as space.

For which circle shall I arrive?

For what meaning shall my life derive?

A life wrought with detested sin,

but a new life so below wherein

a torturous existence of such variety

is awaiting me with lacking piety…