By night I walk these streets in silent rage,
where once I strolled in sunlight’s lazy glow.
Perpetual, this scene, my gruesome cage
condemns me now to seek my murd’rous foe.

They fled, the hooded fiends, into the rain.
My naked body, pulsing life away.
Too late, you called my name. It was in vain.
Yet retribution means to have its day.

I felt your gentle kiss upon my brow
while dying in your arms. You cried and prayed.
Too frail to tell my story, I yet vowed,
they’ll have no peace until a price is paid.

I’ll walk these streets until revenge is spent,
The gift of time is mine, for sinners, lent.