White are the robes of the sinless,
White are the souls of the pure,
Slowly their wings are spreading,
Protecting against thy wrath. Through the sword of justice,
Your whip, created of anger, comes.
Through the hand of my protector,
Thou cometh to stop my path. From thee I shy away,
from thee I turn away.
Thou wrath of despair,
Is naught but a hopeless case,
Here I am,
sitting in the corner. My heart is racing,
my mind is nowhere on the subject in hand. I hear the beats of my heart,
match the seconds of the clock
and beat faster and faster. I can hear my mind scream in exasperation;
I want to jump,
to breathe and be free. I stand,
everyone turns to look at me.
against my ...