He swallowed the agony of hell And after being through the depth of it’s hallow halls The old rusty thorn squeezed Itself around the heart of him that forsake good, The black blood of his wickedness pouring Out from his crack soul, Leaking the rotten stench of harmful deeds, Anticipating such sinister approach, The reflection of him who hurt was so bitter, I turn away my eyes and twist the mirrors around, Privately impersonated, I tried to erased the errors That sealed upon his revenge, Plucking them out from his conscience, the messy residual, So his innocence could emerge with colorful reflection