Burn the dire to be stressed
the fire burnt in my crest
the pathetic pick of a test
and moral submission of the best
Care as we all do
Fare as its not true
As dare when we all do
A fool as we all puke
Terrible is this rage
far away is that age
when things would start to rote
as days we fight to bought
And once again I beg you o' pleader
thy punish me of my vanity
of my moral sins
that end this tyranny displeasure
of mighty mind of treasure.
While vanity I last
for kriti I arks
for ruh is when I task
of end is what I ask
To end is what I ask
non existence is what I ask.
Is mercy what I ask.
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