The formal retreat

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Franz Schopenhauer

4:21

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I long to reform
My madly gone striving
The mind's, driven storm
From beauty deriving
So longing, get rid
Of being dependent
On formal retreat
My heart's, a defendant
Is rushing away
From being restricted
To mildly convey
My senses afflicted
And trying ignore
The pressure I fear
Though let, in the core
My feelings to steer
I am almost fallen
The formal desired
Retreated, self stolen
Sweet selfish admired
Is rushing away
From being restricted
To mildly convey
My senses afflicted
And trying ignore
The pressure I fear
Though let, in the core
My feelings to steer
And trying ignore
The pressure I fear
Though let, in the core
My feelings to steer
My tears of shame
Do burn lustful eyes
The punishment flame
My shameful disguise
Is rushing away
From being restricted
To mildly convey
My senses afflicted
And trying ignore
The pressure I fear
Though let, in the core
My feelings to steer
And trying ignore
The pressure I fear
Though let, in the core
My feelings to steer

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