Attempt of arrogance in broad daylight
Never to be realized
As farmer's wand spoke to the thief
How clear and commanding was its voice
Look at the poor bastard crawling in pain
Through the veil of blood
He's able to perceive purity in the dirt
In the blue of the bruises
A glimpse of heaven
In the sound of cracking jaws
The bells of the easter mass
Writhing in the gutter crying
With a voice that of a lion
Post too long. Click here to view the full text.