Our wings have raised
full of unfulfillment,
spreading tar around.
We have crawled enough,
I say, we never reached the gates,
I say...
We have riden our heads,
our eyes shining with mud,
sticky blinks,
the Moon vomits on us.
I know, we'll never have enough
of our Creator's lust
for sadic laughters...
We have been watched,
we have been laughed at,
never enough, ever wanting more...

...And so, God created Masochism...
We are its keepers...