Hate the soul which seems to be immortal,
Feast with all the saints of Hell,
Divine honey must be deflowered,
Agony screams herself to painful Death.

Now you wish to grow tall and wide,
Your emotions lean against your heart,
Don't turn around and re face childhood,
Look forward; find nothing in the far off end.

And if you love her, cut her tongue,
Show no mercy that has been done.
Drink her blood and steal her youth,
If you're lucky, Death will pick up on you.

Now you run, your thoughts are gone,
You're brainless, hardcore, falling down.
Your spine extended, cells are wasted,
Death delays, and a new flower raises