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Why—Life—art Thou bestowed—on me
In ruthless Mystery
A Wanton Gift of puzzled Might
Condemned Eternally

To what strange Hand could call me forth
From Timeless Oblivion
And thrill my timid Soul to Fear
And quiver Thought—unknown?

No aim before me beckons clear
My Heart an Empty Tune
And dull fatigue the Rhythm wears
Of Life’s unending Rune.

11.11.2024