Perverse with darkness,
Darkness is a pitch-black cloth.
It wraps itself around the soul.
The soul is consumed by it.

The soul becomes lost
And the shadow is mangled
Across the silver moon,
With an hallucinating grin.

And the illusions bombard,
Possessed by a delusion
And the drab bells ring loud,
And the hellish sounds heard

Again, among the rigid flesh
And the dark selfishly instilled.
Inner lust looms, unleashed.
The ego breeds by mindless will.