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Ignea
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Last Chosen by You
Tried to live under the cloth like freak
And breathe the threads of costly silk and precious gems
My pale skin untouched by sunlight beams
Is weary of your hands and your seraglio's lamps
I tear the veil upon my flesh
Disrupting upper hand
I could not be your friend
Bending knees as slave.
Calling you my Bahadir
For the final time
Did you think of your end-point
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When choosing me to satisfy?
Out of time to press alarm call bell,
Your hands are both cut off and bleeding crimson rain
Scream is dumb from your demanding mouth
Cross gag made of my burqa, do you like its taste?
Sanctity is nothing against freedom
I would die by hunger but escape
Let's rejoice my birth, my lively morphing,
Sing with me and play my wicked game
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