Mumbling in the corner
Shaking as afraid of something
Awaiting for the arrival
Of what he had seen
A sickening mind
Trying something ravenous
Feeding his senses
With screams and sights

Once a wiseman
A thinker of sorts
Made new morals
And took a turn
Tried to cleanse the whole world
From the dirt
Never cared about heaven
Or the holy light

No Control – no Regrets