In heaps they were
 the deads stacked high
 I crapped and sang among them.
 
 Black was I, yet bent to it;
 God and I had shown them.
 
 It fell at my feet
 No!
 It didn't just come to me to heal its wounds
 I will kiss it
 
 It is within me now.
 I feel the birth of doom
 And the fruit of my body,
 Stares right out of this room