Sheizen, sheizen where art thou?
Thy nasty stench
now vapors wrenched
on breeze that blows through bough.
Terror, terror - terror I say.
Behind your towel, terror fades away.
But to the serpent, of forked tongue
Terror lives in the lies of day.
The terror of tongue, it's mighty in deed,
where contrition of act
whether worthy of fact
Bleaches truth and force righteous to bleed.