Try not make me believe in a purpose,any of light in this enblinded world,
when all i have lived in is darkness and shadows,well hidden from yours all ravenous sword.


Try not make me believe that life,in my eyes owns any of same beaut you can see,
when i am raised up in wars,among stones and thistles,and complete desolation been the path for me.


Try not make me believe in existence of love,when brutality is my inbreeded innate passion,
for all my stillborn hart found source of,been nourish for my hate and aggression.


Try not make me believe you would else than judge me,try not to search who is me,when nothing you will find to love of what breathes in me,
my soul is scarred,black,iron empty dreams armours me,my hart knows just of detest and frost of winterraves,and what may would make it beat i dont want to see...


1988