My flesh has paid for all the sins within
I'll be crushed bodily, until I have died
Wherever I ask, I long to truly know
I've died in pieces, death has come slow
My body paid in cancer, yet I still burn
No answers, my call for mercy's spurned
The doorway to eternity seems closed to me
Life has been a catastrophe, pity my legacy
For the torture I suffer is by my own hands
For my flesh is punished by my command
Whatever I desire is lost to my demands
“The torture of a bad conscience is the
hell of a living soul.” John Calvin
