Nefasta Fortuna

Like a ghost leashed on a nebulous past

it follows you wherever you go

feeling all the weakness of your joy

feeding from your momentary relief

dragging you down to the voidness with

(you are so used to)

In the lack of a belief

with only a small amount of hope left

the same c(o)urse of the one who is 

a hundred percent alienated by a religion

it swallows you whole

like it is thirsty for fresh water 

in the middle of a summer's day

walking on the rope in a endless repetition

(and you are the water)

What you call bad luck

is nothing more than your own demons gathered

driving you insane without your permission

partially, you let it happen

so jaded and smothered by a heavy life

all the ways leads to it

until you stop to just accept everything

changing the cycle that drains you out

Hoc non est nefasta fortuna

Hoc est propter defectum motus et mutationis

Inanitas loco fidei

Manus ligatum solum intra mentem tuam

{This is not bad luck

This is due to the lack of movement and change

Emptiness in the place of faith

Hands tied only inside your mind}