That moment when for the first time
True loneliness is experienced
When the path of solitude has been chosen
And leaving a deep mark
Its taste sticks to the throat
How often should one think about self-loathed?
Product of this painful journey
In the confines of this mind there's a recurring thought
Where there's nothing to hold on to

In constant self-loathed
I'm in constant self-loathed
When the time is over
When the road is more arduous
At the end you'll only be able to count your scars
Then there is no seeking
Only another testimony of your failure
In constant self-loathed