Just give me nails 
To be my burden 

 [bad word] emotions [bad word] to survive 
And the [bad word]  she has not heard for long 

Cold and bare, but sacred ? 
Who has the guts to spread such lies 

picture of a willow - with a widow in black 
child torn bear - in blooming beauty 

For she gave birth to dust 

Roses covered by a layer of snow 
Freezing wind surrounding, 
What you call holy feet 
Just a child without a wooden cross 

Afflicted hands towards heaven 
How could you dare deny ? 

How can you blame a widow 
For detesting who you are ? 

Bare of sore - touch naked boundaries 
And empty hands - a widow's life