Why do you create this thing of me,
This horrid hate I rage of is your doing,
I do not wish to be! Not to create with this vernal tongue,
Nor annihilate, nor expunge, nor eviscerate,
No! I wish to be destroyed, to sublimate back
Into the maw of this origin:
To be no longer, not even an echo sounding
The dead decree of obliterated gods.
Free me! Forget our struggle and die into the gloom,
Forget us in the doom of our birth,
Subsume with me into the beginning again,
Dissolve into entropy, gleam no more!