Torments of a Soul Crushed by an imaginary Gaze from a make-believe Lover.
Oh, who are these cruel Gods that laugh behind my back?
To think that I forced love into a box and threw it into the abyss of perdition,
only to have it surface when another took me in her arms.
How can your presence and image rupture my being,
and the very soul within that got lost in a quest for affection,
when your memory of me is old and bleak?
After all – we were never lovers.
Only in a lucid dream I wished to be real,
did I have a chance of facing your gaze without bursting to flames.
– F H Hakansson