The question is precious.
The answer, divine
for a youth
so full of fear.

Surrounded with knowing.
No room to discuss.
Take the path
of faithfulness.

Now I am a demon.
From heaven, they teach.
The question
is cancerous.  

Seven days, it was done,
but probably not.
Hear the word
in secrecy.

But this me that I am
will not allow it.
I’m sorry
for wrong I’ve done.

The question is precious.
I asked it bravely.
But knowing
wrought confusion.