Do you ken a soul of forlornness and one permeated with strain,
Breathing a life with zot to gain,
Enclosed by shadiness, vanquished with grief.
A life without peace with no one to complaint.
Do you ken of a zone unseen,
A field that sways a sunder dream,
A field full of distress with aplenty in sight,
I am given this tip every single night.
Do you ken of a zone so cold,
This is the field I yell my soul,
A field without the goal or of allay dreams,
A soul not worth living neglect it seems.
Do you ken a soul with so much strain inside,
Or the feeling of forlornness when no descry your cries,
Maybe when the tears will be retired and I can openly see,
The only inquest left will be...
Do you discern me?