Angra Mainyu has sown thistles and thorns in the field of life. Many a flower has a canker-worm at its heart. Let me weed them out. Every sweet has bitter gall mixed with it. All creation groans under heavy ills.
Man stands surrounded by temptations.
Vice and wickedness press hard all around. Let me not be enmeshed in the widely woven net of evil that the Enemy of mankind has flung far and wide. Let not the veil of vice encircle my eyes and ears, that seeing, they may see not and hearing, they may hear not. Let me not deceive my own self. Let me not be a slave to my petty self.