Cannot set my lonely heart free,
cannot fetter it in chains either.
It's bound to run amuck, you see,
I have my feelings to consider.
I love its escapades in secrecy,
once bland, now too much colour.
The senses hurt, now torment me,
but I welcome the ache, so tender.
Cannot count, the ways of my folly,
cannot resist, the sweet surrender.
"mood should have been happy"??.... what happened then?