Stranded in the crowded Island, Often I find myself alone.
Staring at the starry water that knows not malice.
True its heart it shows me my wet eyes and the damp face,
It knows not my heart and cruel in disposition it stands.
Yet it tells me a tale of lost hearts and valor.
It tells of battles frivolously fought and lost for no reason.
I stare and stare back at me does the truth.
That I stand alone in a crowded island, Stranded I stand.
Sitting under the palm tree, On its lofty sand beaches,
I realize I wrong the boat and the voyage.
Yet marooned I should not be for my crimes.
In passion of utmost carelessness they were done.
I live not that life of moderation and revel in flaming passion do I,
The sin of such life is the peril of loneliness.
Over the expanse and adrift in its care is a boat.
A boat that I have missed for all that that was not to be.
Burned in the high flames of vanities passion was the plank.
And lost was the ride that was only mine to ride.
In this paradisaical expanse I stand, falsely wronged.
I stand stranded on a crowded Island, forever alone.
Destined am I to the case of invisible bars,
Of lost dreams and careless passion.
Destined am I to this lonely abyss,
Of very slow decay of perpetual loneliness.
