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Not a single step shall be made

Nor will this soul come closer or hinter

To the temples of the world

Asking for food and shelter

Not one more breath will be taken

Nor another heartbeat heard

for this false glory

and the blind idols of pride

And never shall I taste

the blinding colours of the light

but stand right in-between them

with clear vision and sight

Place in me, the recievers of thy will

To raise the monument

of silence within

To shiver alone

in darkness and cold

Standing naked in the rain that

pours

cleansing this flesh and soul

building thy bleak temple

Insert in this flesh the recievers of thy will

By the means of hurt and pain

Not a single motion shall be made

Nor a strive towards

the light that stands

offering the rotten fruits of the world

Not one more drop of this poisoned water

will be taken

into this dry troath that sings

prayers unto the Lord

Starving for his bread

Starving for his wine

To raise the monument

of sorrow within

To tremble and shiver

in the darkness and silence

Standing alone in the tempest and storm

Come now, father, bless thy orphan children