All philosophers true to the study will go mad some day.
But then again, it is Normal that defines Mad.


It’s hard to love and easy to hate

My conscience rips me apart

And yet much easier to hurt

Guilt, willingly, floods my heart

What gave me the power?

To hurt you so; to know

What that pains you is me

Wanting to stop, unable to do so.

It was my wrong to have done this

For ‘cos of my wrong do you suffer

Maybe, I wonder, maybe it would help

Maybe at the end, We will be tougher.

Apologize a million times I would

And willingly, like before

But thought twice I had and knew

It would comfort you no more.

My mind torments me as much

As it you, with no purpose nor aim

For ‘ve already cracked and know that

Our love, probably, will no longer be the same.