Friends insist:
'Adapt yourself to the new
and the strange;
How strange?
When everything appears beyond range.
When there is no peace of mind,
Nor solace for the wounded heart;
When dawn is another day of grief,
When dusk fails to bring relief,
How to adapt to the new
and the strange,
When everything appears beyond range?
May nobody suffer the way I do,
May nobody undergo the pain I do,
Tell me when O Master of fates,
Will end all that I am going through?
There is no peace of mind for me,
There is no solace or hope for me,
Yet friends insist that I must,
Adapt myself to the new and the strange.
Sympathy my friends is sincere no doubt,
But how to grasp what is out of my range?