Oh the blessed sufferer who turns to thee in prayer ,
the mortal bonds that fetter every single care  .
The tinker mends ,
a potter makes ,
a baker bakes then eats his cakes ,
But what of God if all we see are icons on stone and glass ,
And to suffering go ,
to sofa spend ,
our fragile time comes to an end .
We never looked past our sufferings to differant worlds far beyond
this mortal coil ?
For what we touch is real ,
and what we can't is dead ,
and fairy tales on silver castles are nothing more than beautiful dreams .
Then sleep until death awakes you ,
Sleep until you have no breath ,
For those who seek shall find ,
for only if your heart will take .

Oh blessed sufferer who turned to God in prayer ,
who fought through carriages of doubt and dispair ,
his arms enfold encapsulate you without a single care .
For butterfly's to take flight on multicoloured wings must fight ,
as a Jaguar sinks its claws into turtle shell under a full moon ,
So  to cruelty take .
So don't let darkness enfold you ,
It's web entice .
For in the dark demons dance ,
and it's all man can see ,
dazzled by its twinkling night ,
for in light they turn to dust .