Child born in loneliness

Forever condemned in the eternal deeps of hell

His innocence torn by anguish and bitterness

A shell made of hatred and confusion

Sealing up the shreds of hope

If only angels would reach

Towards the child

And swoon him

From his chambers below

They would see past

That monstrous face

And that he does not destroy for pleasure

But for longing


And peace

But that does not happen

For he was born in loneliness

And there god condemns him to stay