I'm here to tell you nothing

I'm fallen and torn, captive in dreamlands,
But with waiting for nothing.

I'm dead, surviving in this morbid air,
With no dream and wish and desire.

I'm playing in songs and poems and portraits,
With no hope to future of dark art.

I'm tearing for my dearest one I left her alone,
With no will to return.

Because I have a contagious sickness in my existence.

Hails, my precious
Listen to the rain globs as remembrance of our tearful age.
Listen to my croon and smile.

How much the life is slight for your sacred love.
How much the existence is small for your spiritual exist.

Still can you feel my grief?
Still can you hear my heart?

I'm here to tell you once again: I have exist for your existence.
I'm the nature of night for your gracious rays, if I've merit.

But stay away from me.
I have a contagious sickness.

Forgive my eccentric love.

I worship you my god! My moon