I lay my faith here, on the bitter pathway ,

Of where those dirty. defiled . tripping minions ,

pranced and danced the dance of vile .

In hopes that the skein of a heart left by their filth ,

Shall one day be unsullied by the purest of breaths ,

The deepest of heart , the loudest of passion .

Where are you, oh beauty that shuns all unpure ?

How shall I seek, to beg for the curse of an innocent ?

Why should I be blessed with the blood on my hands ?

The spotless blood of . .

Me .