I gently spoke to him, of evil and good,
Of love and hate
But he thought it wise not to listen
And I could not blame him
For the sweetness of evil
Triumphs over the bitterness of good

I spoke to him of the temporal
But he would not listen
I spoke to him of the eternal
But he would not listen
And when he walked away into the mist
I knew he was lost to himself.

I whipped myself for playing the counsellor
For within me I too harboured a hurt
That not even the divine can heal
Wait for me, I shouted
And I joined him in his hate
I the better of the two.