Ek wou nog iets hieroor skryf, maar toe los ek dit vir later.
Cling to life with knuckles white
When no more tears soothe burning eyes
With mute screams at countless horrors
Writhing through a battered mind
When darkness pervades and all hope fails
Leaving a desolate fragment of sanity
When you can but submit to the torment of evils
Drowning all senses in a vortex of pain
When the last vestige of mercy seems to be death
Lift your head and let your eyes fall on the limp figure suspended
From a wooden beam sullen powerless and beaten
-Then, know that when all efforts at righteousness seemed in vain,
Not even the holiest of beings could tame this wicked world;
Nor shall you find purpose in this worldly life, but in heaven.