What worth are the words when pain's only told?
He would laugh at the strange if it wasn't despoiled,
daemons rise, swallow and coil,
in darkness so bitter falls this heart
cold just like snow,
raised in iron this man out of soil,
folded embrace by that which is stone.

Now acheless exhaustion: how it tear and it bites,
brittle are bones and fear is the life,
so we seek shelter, we smear and we fight,
for under the sun even darkness reside.