Oh the fate of I by disturbance ever grow,

For only that which by unpleasant maiden bestow,

For that in which my heart holds fear, by words that have fallen upon my ear,

Twisted and molded, passion rises from my deepest heart,

My emotions are set by a burning in which my mind takes part,

Never acknowledging useless agression,sought out comfort as my discretion,

But do I find escape by my hand,

No, from this happy dagger I am banned,

Oh the wish for me to flee, but surely my fears would only best me,

And so it is here in this mourning state,

That I recognize my passion has morphed into hate.