My life seems to be an accumulation of adversities
A painful trail of disillusionments and dishonesty
To be pursued by negative experiences
To run into strange and deadly ambiences
Every operation and event entails misadventure
Unfortunate conjunctures which harm my structure
To be incarcerated by my own mental feebleness
To be squeezed out and feeling defenseless
A disposable article am I, used for ultimate soul satisfaction
A really nice thing for distraction, a sort of human attraction
My life is a long track of damaging incidents
Wherein people gained access and left impertinent
To be fooled by others without having a notion
To be robed of emotions, punished for devotion
These traumas in my head don't seem to disappear
In fact, it gets even worse year after year
The pain I've taken hasn't changed
I’m still forlorn and totally estranged
I’m tired to be chased by murderers and beasts
So tired to be part of their devastating feasts...