Tell me, dost thou not know shame? I reckon not, for then thou wouldst be upright. 'Tis not judgment I cast upon thee, But the belt of truth and discipline. Hear, that thou mayest correct thy ways. Much to my displeasure, I shall reprove thee O child who hast not known thorns of love. Know the intent of those whose hearts lust after thee, For thy heart delighteth in their praise. Thou who chasest ghosts and ghouls And forgettest the worth of thy bloom. Thus thou scatterest thy petals Like seeds upon the garden plains. Lest ruin come upon thee, Break the chains that bind thee To the ways of man and the devil's pit. Search thy heart, O child, And root out the weeds within. For 'tis a cancer in my heart To witness the state of thy livelihood.