Monstrosity of all monstrosities shackles with him The madness of the spirit scrambles up As if the flaming swords of truth Were finishing their works of doom Torn his entrails in two Alegory of situations seems like panopticum Of lost souls, lost people Deep under the cover of disguise. Thousands of truths, thousands of lies, thousands of masks Angels like lighting through the night Reveal, malform, cover What will be the end to all Well immortality is just a dream Will everything return to the Womb?