And still - evil tortures - like the sight -
Of thine self bereaved of love and life -
Embroiled deep in despairing soils -
Trade my loathing for light to which I want to be wife -
As if my song were restorative -
To my spiritual wealth -
For having been crucified with visions -
Numerous of my dying self -
And do they know - that fate to see -
Is like a kaleidoscope of pain -
When of light bereaved, I need life breathed -
And healing prayers to fall like rain -