Thus erupted the violent outrage,
giving way to the calm.
Giving way to the storm,
to the silent realm.
Of the mourner.
Of the dead.
Of the sinner.
And the ones afraid.
So rise my friend,
with reverence and heads bowed down.
Murmur your silent prayers,
and see if she's around.
Around my corpse,
around its shadow.
Near the closing walls,
or the lifeless window.
Don't let her burn my dead,
as she ever did before.
Silence her damned tongue,
before she creates a furor.
About my life,
about my death.
About my love,
my disgusting faith.
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