Be it death, be it life
To which death is bliss
But life is strife
Yet we sought and I sought this abyss

Of which brings endless suffering
To those around you and you yourself
The joy of living differs from the bliss of dying
For the humanly feelings that come to be in both our partner and ourselves

An unachievable happiness, only to be accomplished while alive
A natural beauty in the beasts we are
One that purifies to that which we are deprived
Our complex feelings from life is bizarre and never still like the north star

For our love for living
Our wish for undying