The need to write is nothing but
a way to search for your true self
disheartened by your stay
in the cold world of abstract reason;
groping for words you hope to readjust
your almost frozen poor self
whose love of life faded away
confined to such a barren land

Luckily, discontent is reigning,
unseen, over your heart and mind:
there’s always something new
there’s always something else
you’re eager to and strive to find

You suddenly take heart
and heedless of what others say
you plunge into the longed-for world
of fantasy and art
where you will take refuge whenever
you feel this mortal coil you can no longer stand.