certain dark things: i leave the dark behind.

she calls to me, the morning long desired
and i would go, to hell with all the vows
so spoken by these lips, by night inspired
and sworn by stupid desperation, now
my leave is taken, i am not forsworn,
what difference: oath or lies? my words are words.
i put my own self first, i am not torn,
i am no martyr, man; the thought's absurd.

heroic man who hates himself, i can't
pretend to be that boy who dreamed of death
i have to love myself, you understand:
my life is precious: measure out each breath.

if death will be my end (oh heav'nly lie),
there is no need for treasure in the sky.