The voice is ever-present,
and the word, a constrant phrase;
the glory of God,
it rests in the unloved.

Crying out, God's children say,
"give to us bread to eat,"
while those with the bread,
poise themselves against them.

Heaven, help my little ones!

Beauty is present in the unseen,
they lengthen their lashes;
paint their faces,
put gold upon their frames,
and the finest of all cloth.

Beneath these layers of dress,
is where true treasure can be found;
when the core of a girl is rotten,
what good is it to cover her harlotry.

Rome, O Rome,
who comes to us a queen;
and says,
"let them eat cake."

Filth! Filth! Filth!

Wearing the gold band of her marriage,
flaunting herself before the nations;
saying to them, "come into me!"

While The Bride of Christ is in labor.

©2026 Sayori Yǔ