She is sure to cultivate the gravest ills.

How her open wound glistens like gold.
How evil dances in her open skies.

How they suffer without love...

Open,
Without ever knowing love.

Because

She beats her children with an iron rod
Right now, unspeakable things are happening

Now, to your radius
I pray
Imbue it with vigilance
Don't let death grow in your world
Edge it out with water and some time.