The waters flow with gashing strength
Still filled with blood
Still not released from hell's rein

From above the clouds yet gather
A thunder piercing through the air
And then comes lightning as without a care

Why am I bleeding?!
Who made this curse!
Thou shallot be confident and ready for action
Or it shallots be worse!

Thee art to learn the soldier's trade
And stand upright against your fate
If thou art stabbed in thy back by her
She shall the price of it bear

You must fight your inner demons
Your burning love you must face
Even if it means losing god's grace

You stand no chance "The devil whispers:  
You answer: "Heretic! I'll stand my place"
His eyes with atrocities are filled
Pitch black, yet burning red

The grass shunt grow under your feet again
I answer: "I have got a plan"
Your liberty shall perish
I utter: "still don't be merry"

He strikes with anger
Fear and loss and adds desire and lust
I barely stay on my feet to stand
I strike with courage, hate and hope

At me he laughs as if I were a clown
"You, weakling, mortal, is that all you've got?"
I do not retreat, not even an inch
But, he keeps hitting me as if I were his bitch

My strength is out
The horizon's far
How shall I last some more?

And then a face I see out of the blue
I just know that it is you
The love I seeked for
For which I prayed

It makes me glad
Again the devil returns to the dead