What have I not given? What is left for the altar? What have I not made bleed, or have not made prostrate before your Idols? What is left to give from me? Have I not given all? Does not no soul of my relation walk upon the earth. What living things of my blood still have not been made to shed my blood? My children have been given, their existence given up with scream and pain. Lies for your Hidden ones I gave with the deceit of my army. Despair offered up to your own council through their terror In the 50 days and 50 nights of torture. By the guidance of your right and left hand I've twisted their bodies into the Idols that praise you. Bone and sinew made holy in your image. Their blood was given as drink for you shadows, where they not made fat? Flesh peeled off their bodies as food for your hounds. where they not made full? What is left? I do not cry out in rage, for I am calm. I do not cry out in request, for you hold me no det. I do not cry out in sadness, for it was all given freely. I cry out in confusion! For I do not know what I can give? Say what has to be given, and I will give. But you have not said? My house, my blood, my soul, my army, my children, my eyes, my heart, my skin, my mind! YOU have it all! Tell me. What must I Sacrifice!
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