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O stranger, afraid in a world I never made,

Prisoned heart, guilty of fear,

As flocks feareth  the wolf,

the crops the storm, and the trees the wind

I crouch in agony, fearing fear, devoid of life

O, how vain and vile a passion,

Kaiser of hell, master of a wraith

What maketh  me you do?

The concessions of the week the ordain of fear,

Chiseling strangers of blood, from the yarning of kin

Thy can’t hurt me more than a dream

shall take your council no more

thou can’t kill me from the fear of thee

In a vacuous life, lies there no hope

Vanquish fear, for there is not anything to hope

Flowers bloom at the edge of darkness

With the smell of love, free from you

Lieth in the womb of my imagination

You shall lead my life no more

O, the fire of  icarian wings, Burn me not, and let me free

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