I thought I was good,
But you know what they say;
Those who do what they should,
Often into wild evils stray.

Once thought near a saint,
Now condemned for all I do.
My will to sin, no longer faint.
Inside, a dense tangle grew.

Slowly unwinding and ripping
Is this fragile dying soul.
While you gaze at the dripping;
Oozing quickly from this black hole.

Tie me down with ropes,
Of twisted evil strings,
Ripped from my weary heart and hope;
Drenched in blood & misery, Life's kings.

I promise I won't fight.
I know I deserve this fate
For I finally lost all light
In this demon-forest, so great.