Of the days of late

I find I only hate.

Disillusioned soul

Who one day'll find

At death's dire toll

That he has lost his mind.

Such a man will wander

From the day he'll die.

Such a man will wander,

And let no person cry

For such a devil as he.

For he has brought

All the things he'll see

By his own evil thought.

Such a devil there shall be

And such a devil is me.