Drown yourself in the despicable suffering of the self, quietly.
Quietly, or you shall wake them up.
The monsters, the demons,
They come right at your soul, gnawing at it,
Clawing at your only solace,
They come right at you, oh so righteously.
Ignorant, blinded, desire-drunk demons,
Their hands on fire, burning everything they touch,
Your shallow soul shall be doomed, slave.