Further compulsion has made it this long.
I know in my heart that killing is wrong.
Alas my disease, my thirst I cannot sate.
Father above I wish to be repentant of the crimes before me.
Your servant now a guilty conversion; although I know, in hell I'll be.
I accept the fate that I have made.
Alone and bitter.
Forced to hate.
My desire for flesh is unbridled.
Prostrate before you.
I beg for forgiveness.