Sometimes my thought goes by,
Without direction like me, but
With conviction in my heart
I have only lament and bitterness
And I observe you
And you still clamour and glorify
That one who doesn't hear you
Perhaps for not wanting
To understand you
And the mankind suffers
Who are you Nazarene?
Only answers are not enough
Where not only damned
Are drowned into a Sea of Fire
And that truth be said
When you and I
Die in a Sea of Fire
Perhaps this world
is this tragic opus
That the author writes
it with his own blood
This blood that flows
infected with plagues
In his veins.
And does the man be born
Who in his dark cradle is breast-fed
By disease, and dreams about death
Under the shadow of despair
Now tell me,
Where are your Nazarene?
