The human comedy
Follow me and let me be your guide,
Let me be the angelic Beatrice, your forever lost bride.
Pass your gaze upon the right-there lies the field of despair,
Where traitors beg for life without knowing it has passed, for that's only fair.
On the left lies yet another,
A field, but so much different than the former,
Here madness dances all around
And life is neither sacred, nor profound.