I hope you know I take no pleasure in any of this.
My lack of words-- my fork shaped tongue.
You don't know how much I'm tourmented--
Part of me wishes that maybe I could just cut
out my tounge;
Kill the beast which burns inside my chest.

And watch in the stream of moonlight;
as I turn from man to beast.
Hands that rip apart flesh-
A lust that is unsatified;
A rage that is fueled by my own hate.

Freedom is through your flesh alone.
teach me-- how to speak;
Wash my wounds and love.

You might just be able to save  this soul.