I am frozen in hell when I'd rather be melting.
The ice around my neck has gripped me tighter than the noose and the hatred for what I've done doesn't have a single use.
The wailing and the moaning of the children born in fire ring forever like a symphonic melody rising from the deep...
From the trenches in the deep...
I strain to speak but my words fall short and God has turned his face away but I feel his sadness as I decay.
Perhaps they'll learn from our mistakes and avoid the traps in which we fell,
with hope they'll choose a different path so they won't see a sight as me whispering for forgiveness here in hell.