What's the point?
Are you dead,
so life begins.
And when I wander to the dark gate
You get by force
my meaning and word.
But if I stop with ornament and greed
that's how I find the place
it brings neither happiness nor sorrow,
as much as remains.
I pour out my oath
am I so helpless
because you will come
bring me out of my depths
In rapid succession.
Because you are mine
should be my last will.