Werther s dying thoughts

I obsessed on strange meaning of my life —
I suffered for someone else's wife.
Her name was Lotta, my angel of death,
She was devil and torture, stealing my breath.

My heart is beating aggressively,
Because I hear her voice caressively.
Hellish pain inside my head —
A bullet kills my thoughts, I’m almost dead.

But what meaning of my life,
When I cannot see you, my Lotta?
Love is a strange, thin knife,
It gives many soul’s scars,
And people's crazy memoirs.

I see her soul, and she is sad,
She feels my suicide, and it’s so bad.
With her husband, she tried to help me,
But I’m sinking deep, can’t break free.

I am losing so much blood,
And now I hear the final thud.
My life is over, my soul left flesh,
I am a ghost, nothing to confess.

I see her tears, inconsolable and true,
I know she feared what I would do.
Her husband is sad too, I doubt.
He feels the deep blue that I’m about.

2025