Gift haphazard, unavailing, <br />Life, why were thou given me? <br />Why art thou to death unfailing <br />Sentenced by dark destiny? <br /> <br />Who in harsh despotic fashion <br />Once from Nothing called me out, <br />Filled my soul with burning passion <br />Vexed and shook my mind with doubt? <br /> <br />I can see no goal before me; <br />Empty heart and idle mind. <br />Life monotonously o'er me <br />Roars, and leaves a wound behind.<br /><br />Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/may-26-1828/
