Desire so sweet and still so far.
Slowly but surely forming to a scar.

A scar on my soul.
A scar on my being.

It�s sweet torture, yet bitter pain.
My mind shall focus on what is to gain.

Serving Him, an honour so dear.
Pleasing Him, even if it is He I fear.

Flames of desire burn from within.
My eyes shine up when thinking of Him.

Honour fills me when His presence is near.
In my soul I feel my place is here.

He is my Lord, He is my Master.
I wish I could think of ways to please Him faster.

Doing His biding is what we shall do.
Our intentions are pure and true.

Hail to the Malevolent one, His will be done.
The only Divine, our Master, the one.


Penned by my hand on the 7th of Valnuary, in the year 360 AF.