Hatred fills my being every day now.
Not from myself, but from the world around.
Why is it there? What have I done?
My whole realm has become undone.

I sit here, in Nirvana
Crying to myself about a
Thing called hatred. I do not
understand it, nor want it.

Sorrow flows from me
Only on the inside.
On the outside,
I rejoice.

Penned by my hand on the 21st of Khepary, in the year 65 MA.