Worn out by anxious watching
A heavy slumber had overtaken them
Their passion will soon be dead
Writings calling is just a face out of sky

Injury by their first confusion
An answer being obvious astonishment

All these thoughts will come to an end

The writings were sent out
To a faithful servant
Some of them don't even care
Some of them don't even dare

To The Seven

The noble vision out of which the End had been born would not die.
In its close the writings To The Seven rise high above both negatives,
The morbids and their last hope.
Though the innocent suffered with the guilty, it embodied a tragic justice.

And the justice...

An incidential allusion-sick
Purposely thrown out they bear
Their hope departed from their breast
The reason remain unimpaired at least

Injury by their first confusion
An answer being obvious astonishment

Seven is the key

The writings were sent out
To a faithful servant
Some of them don't even care
Some of them don't even dare

To The Seven