It’s 3 AM. Awake
I shake in bed
With wines of yesterday
now spoiling
And songs inside my ears
now growing stale
Like bread offered to idols
passed away
Who will make us prosper?
Another night
when will light shine our way
I search my heart
why has it gotten ail
And soothe my soul
its constant toiling
With certain sureties
in my head.
the fragrance writer 