Poemander

Things will get better,

They do get better,

Even when for worse,

They'll still get better...

Minutes, days, hours,

Lifetimes – who cares!

Hey, saddle the horse up!

Nay, nobody dares

Stopping us here!

This town is dead.

We aim for the stars,

Why should we regret?

Let bullets lament us.

Departing in vain.

We leave this convent

To start over again.

Forerunners of fortune,

The footprints abound

We trample in thick mud,

By horses starbound.

Rot happened to this place,

Den filled with the rats:

Lads turned into bitches

And bitches in brats.

We're sane in this madness,

And the madness is vast,

Even greater is sadness

Which consumes us like rust.

Ah! Wherever the path leads,

We ride in moonlight.

Earth trembles with heartbeats,

Weeps,

Pounds with might!