Twain human bodies,
Lost in passion and melodies
Gliding against each other
Now I am here, longing…
For what could not be reversed

It is vicious in here
Nothing could ever prepare
Thou for the hear that comes
With breathing in and out
The mere oxygen of being existent

Birthed in hell without sin
Sin creeps and knocks at the door
Of your soul and unwillingly resides
At the crux of your being
And now you belong ring where you are

Twain human bodies, gliding
Now I am here burning
The harshness is suffocating
And there is no escaping