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