I own the blame
I claimed it with three hundred tears
Now it's always my fault
Even now
As my thread is about to be torn.
It is pulled by demons
Which I've created too powerful to beat
They embrace me with their burgundy wings
And they blow rings of smoke to my face
That reek with such stench I never knew

A cross is carved upon my chest with an ivory blade
The same as the one which once torn my thread
And by my name
A single cross is also carelessly scribbled
As if absolving the blame.