I have been to hell and I'm back
I wish salvation still got my back
As the judge sat here in Kamar's court
The fire was not hot that it hurt
Nor the flames wild blue to burn
Is it late to be born again or again born
My sin readily served as red hot pasta
that I reggae like an unwell Bob's rasta
I salivate for repentance but know it is late
My soul suffers my gone worldly gait
Hell is the beacon to this lie we call life
stab at my back my hand helped the knife  

KUVAR