He was perfect and able to always win
His body and flesh were beautiful
But his heart was fallen to sin
The truth Lancelot discovered
Was one few men overcome
Hell is found in our heart
That battle is impossible to be won
For whatever you do
It returns and burns inside
With fuel of your recent efforts
Nothing is more difficult than this
It is no simple act of war or fight
It requires a death of the self
Death to one's flesh
It is to commit a form of suicide
