I weep for that which was,
Was destroyed by my own hand,
Regret does sink in me its claws,
Now at this life’s stand.

Cannot I be forgiven,
Or given a start anew?
For with thee I will fight the raven,
With all might and sinew.

Another chance, if you might so bear,
Will not disappoint I think,
For there’s water, water everywhere,
But you’re my drop to drink.