Melas Khole

Do you ask
The purpose of your pain?
And are the black bile fluent
In your veins?

Are you the one
That luck disdains?
Are you the one
That hope repeatedly betrays?
(Have you lost your way?)

Then take my pleasant company
And marvel at my arts
I've sown my illest seed
In your hurt and sorry heart

I am melas khole

(Hope is a serum that never heals)