I’m confused by what you mean to me, by what you want from my conception,
I long for what you cannot give, what is bound by your confession.
My soul is forfeit to the devil if that is what you wish upon me,
I cannot bend against your power, against your every inclemency.
This love that binds me to your soul holds me colder still,
I’m discontented, demented, segmented to your will.
I have considered these tears of mine as nothing but a weakness,
There is nothing left to fill this void, to fill this blazing bleakness.