It was countless times better to relentlessly stagger in the sweltering heat outside; with the ferociously hedonistic rays of the afternoon Sun making me slaver like a dog on flaming soil,
Rather than betray the irrefutably truthful voice of my conscience; and lie like an unemployed laggard in the caverns of blackened nothingness.
It was countless times better to unflinchingly walk on a platform of acrimoniously pernicious thorns; surrender the nimble soles of my feet to uncouthly uncontrollable bleeding,
Rather than betray the majestically truthful voice of my conscience; and surreptitiously steal onto the sheets of unfathomable luxury; with a nefariously
wicked glint in my eye.
It was countless times better to shiver bare-chested in the ruthlessly annihilating blizzard outside; letting each bone of my body nervously reverberate till times beyond infinite infinity,
Rather than betray the pricelessly truthful voice of my conscience; and indiscriminately force my cumbersome form into someone else's emolliently
hard-earned dwelling.
It was countless times better to be unsparingly excoriated by the demonic sword of the turgidly truculent society; abnegating even the most infinitesimal trace of worldly pleasure forever and ever and ever,
Rather than betray the peerlessly truthful voice of my conscience; and nod my head like a disgracefully dastardly rat to the gutterpipe of flagrant lies.
It was countless times better to scorch to an indescribably ghastly death; letting the chords of my throat scurrilously burn in unbearably agonizing turmoil,
Rather than betray the symbiotically truthful voice of my conscience; and lackadaisically lap at the pool of venomously malicious water in the
treacherously profane enemy camp.
It was a countless times better to lasciviously sell each part of my worthless body; let hideously untamed vultures of cowardly malice rip apart my flesh to their vapid heart's delight,
Rather than betray the bountifully truthful voice of my conscience; and trade my sacrosanct mother for ensuring few breaths of my worthlessly decrepit existence.
It was a countless times better to be buried under fathomless masses of cold-bloodedly slandering rock; find my veritable corpse an infinite feet beneath mud
even as I exhaled air in the pristine prime of my life,
Rather than betray the regally truthful voice of my conscience; and order my impeccable child to carry the load of the corrupt planet; so that I could snore and
pugnaciously survive.
It was a countless times better to deliriously loiter on the streets without a cloth to engulf my rickety form; become the endlessly laughing stock of every single cranny of this limitless globe,
Rather than betray the triumphantly truthful voice of my conscience; and wear the skin of my father like a cannibalistically satanic parasite all my life.
It was a countless times better to metamorphose wholesomely into blind; entirely shut the fangs of my existence to even the most ethereally flickering beam of light,
Rather than betray the eternally truthful voice of my conscience; and keep staring into fecklessly wastrel corpses of nothingness; inspite of being blessed with two brilliantly bright eyes.
It was a countless times better to rot in the mortuaries of unceasingly squelching hell; let the most unsurpassably excruciating torture in the devil's land deteriorate me into a scarecrow of insipid meaninglessness,
Rather than betray the beautifully truthful voice of my conscience; and break the heart of my immortal beloved; for sensuously alien flesh and vituperatively tantalizing raunchiness.
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