Am strucked oh am strucked.
Loneliness strikes me like cyclone.
My situation has land by the milestone.
The incidental hit disposes a scar, now I bare my cross all alone.
My life is a dark forsaken room.
Long raided by thugs and goons.
They faze like the incredible shape of a loom.
Raiders of discouragement, joy stilling, company and harmony.
On many occasions I strive to zoom.
But under their superiorities I was already a colony.

I feel ultimately grave.
I reckon myself a coward, no more brave.
This loneliness makes me determine my view as am coddled by cave.
The company I desire is nowhere around.
The life I fancy I wobble to access, and it's expedient I perceive it profound.
Every moves about my wretched soul is as snail.
Maybe I need my clone to help me expound.
Expound vividly the stone in my mind.

Am drunk with cognac of pains.
2,4,7 my excess reasoning spill again.
Am clueless about how to relate, it strains.
My life leans hopelessly against the wall buried in stupor of isolation and deprivation.
This raided room is left with none.
Other than bottles of ale portraying a cure for contentment to be addicted to loneliness.
Am now lonely for fun.
Am strucked oh am strucked.