Mama, where am I?
Ask me where I am, Mama.
Reeks, it reeks,
Traversing in caves, it reeks.
I am but a juvenile astray,
Astray, that I am;
Lost in the midst of pandemonium.

Lost; am I lost, Mama?
Am I? Am I?
Where am I?

Nene, they called me,
Etched in wounds, my name.
Vultures alike, clawing from above,
Eight nine ten, they count.
Right before the explosion,

A whisk of laughter floats on.
Grab her! They screamed in ire.
All I know is that it reeks.
It reeks, mama. I’m lost.
Nene, is that who I am?

Don’t! I begged.
Under the rug,
They hid my undergarments.
End, is it the end?
Remember—all I remember is, mama,
They caressed my thighs, mama.
End, is this the end, mama?

Pain strikes below, and inside, and around.
Alas, there is something penetrating!
Slashing and stroking and slashing and stroking.
It’s painful, mama. It’s painful.
Something is poking, it’s agonizing.
Then it reeks o'er, it reeks.
Again, am I lost, mama? Where am I?