The Gospel Reading - Woe Unto Me

Every sigh, either stir makes me suffer

My spirit turns away, outness

Instead of crying, dying, silence

Desires were crushed by realness

Your impresses are overgrown by flowers

Your breath transforms darkness into light

Forest parts for your feelings

You are molder of such paradise

Silence has broken your reverie

Eyes were opened by mysterious force

That warns against absorption

Of your dreams by rality