Akin to what Satan's lair maintains to control,
My story-without bound- stays on its pitfall,
Thoughts turn to crying immoralists waiting for a hand;
But far from my brain, lays no any strand-
Of opportunity, of luck, of anything this world upholds;
Black blood runs on my body from which unborn is told,
Satan's birth within my soul disturbs all my purity,
As I sustain this kind of spirit with no spirit to carry.
I don't trust light or anything such kingdom of God,
Light is known by vision so why is it out of sight?
This world kills all of things I had-
So why trust all kind of things that vanish by night?
Our God who art in His Kingdom-
Hollows my body in pain;
Pardon my thoughts of how God damn-
This world is, but bring my soul to Satan's lair.
