When the matrimony cries for help
Matrimony is no longer holy but I’m not to be blamed
Is this life or a trap set by my lord on earth?
I cry in vain to him but he guffaws
The bed now feels like a thorny thicket
Yesteryear it was where the sacrament was fulfilled
Today it is where the same sacrament lies vulnerable
The matrimony lies there like a virgin deflowered against her consent
Like a virgin who still prays for the one who persecutes her
Like the faithful who forgives his enemy
And chooses resurrection as a complete rejection of self
Was I a fool that I laughed at all the veiled threats?
Yes, I was a fool that I drank myself into oblivion
But my earthly lord believes this oblivion is blessed
The oblivion is blessed but oblivious is maimed
The oblivious snivel and not sob inside the oblivion
Ah, mon Dieu!
The one you created in your image now does monstrosities
The one who came from your image deserts the matrimony
For whom you commanded me to leave public discourse
The one from whose image I came
I seek protection from him for my cherished bed of roses
The creator of monstrosities is no longer a living martyr to me
Where shall I seek my living martyr? Where?
Tell me! Where?