Pain, the poem

The sea is long to the heart,
Not to the sandy shore. When will life come to a start?
When our hearts are rotting to the core.

We see the devil’s fangs,
We see the angel’s halo.
We hear the heart breaking bangs,
As we realize our heart was shallow.

No more lives to waste,
We choose and lose.
Are we feeling Typhon’s taste? When will we get the devil’s reward of misuse?

A question indeed, you can tell,
With only wrong answers.
Many wishes to wish upon a wishing well,
Aren’t we those unlucky chancers?

A soul within is dying,
As we are living a drought.
All we do is crying,
No help was sought.

We live to see our life come to an end,
While you sit and watch.
When will we meet our dear friend,
Who will place upon us a deathwatch?

Destiny awaits,
For angels and devils, Who shall call the great?
As we pass out passing dangerous levels.