Despair written, but indifference spoken.
"God help me," is asked, yet not asked at all.
"Now what?" is said, the spirit lies broken.
What he wants is not asked, what he asks is
Not answered, what is answered isn't wanted.
No reply to his empty words, not like this.
No solution to the cry of the haunted.
There is no relief from this torment within,
His fury spent, his anguish covered in sleep.
The impassionate frenzy of emptiness tomorrow
With the coming of dawn, it rises again.
May God take pity on this, one of his sheep,
For no one else can rid him of his sorrow.
God help us! God save us! God hear us!
Why should he help us? Why should he save us?
Can he still hear us when we cry?
Just let me alone, let me alone, let me die.
Tonight is hell, tomorrow I am reborn.
He heard, I am saved. My anguish is gone.