You're burning from long ago,
and withering,
weeping,
without tears, blaming,
and weeping,
while the sea foam is swallowing you...

They are peeling your skin, you, the only saint,
They are destroying your temple, harlot,
They loathe you, beloved one,
and you are crying, martyr,
and burning,
long ago, burning...

You are not carrying your cross,
You don't have one
They broke it, they shall eat it,
You're losing the battle, and not winning this war

You, never the victress,
They loved you, and where are you now?
Pouring poison, and tripping over
your own misery