My sorrow is as it should be,
In this life, and I am weak,
For this task was given unto me,
And leads me where the shadows speak.
The thing, the creature, our only guide,
Was once a fool like I,
For he took the One, and his life died,
As I in pity lie.
My friend and my companion now
Is my only loyal hope,
And he sees me, and wonders how
He and I shall ever cope.
And in my heart I long for death,
Yet fear I should die befor the end,
And I prospne my dieing breath,
For peace, my guide, my friend.