I am evil.
Trust me.
A cold stone baetyl,
that has made God in your eyes.

Flowing blood, running.
Not in your vain , but,
from the sharp sowrd’s eyes.
Flow but not to give life.

Your warmth is,
From your own soul.
Cold, I am.
Trust me.

Frozen rock is my heart
To melt it, is not enough by your tears.

Your tears ,
not,
The shaking hands full of your love,
not.

As it is, I am in pain too.
Trust me.