I, another being,
spawned from hatred,
seven trumpets, hear me roar
cadaverous and malicious
I become myself whole
to fend away thy arrogant gaze

Come hither, broaden thy shoulders.
And thou standeth affixed,
bound in tarry,
for misunderstanding anew
for disposition anew
without disgrace to stain thy face
like rain on morning dew.

Now taketh this instant,
midst tallt satyrs.
Nary seek thine own indulgence
but one reason to divulge repugnance
with pitch black souls
preying for holes.

In this forest of hatred,
I cometh into my own again.
To emerge astonished
with ravenous eyes
betwixt thither, where dimmer trees do wax
in gloomy twilight still.