Guest
The temptation cruel, vile poison in the river sweet. Wound still fresh, it's cold. Powder with more salt! (Let it hurt me!) Through pain the wise is born: viridity crave for life from pain I won't die, cause power I have found. (Let it burn me!) This time I shall win over the objectless hate, over maimed vainglory, over every single sin. The signs of taint I saw in pure fount No longer stops me Your base vile rage Was beautiful your outward till I looked into the soul: venomous viper's teeth a cob the tarantula knit. Naive deeds on my account my candor never understood. Shadows slowly comprise. My King, bring me the light!
