1st; On Golden Censer Poem by Rus Sneddon

Rus Sneddon

Rus Sneddon

Ktima, Troodos Mountains, Cyprus

1st; On Golden Censer



Thankful in spirit,
Being able to hold up in the remission of Ecstasy,
For making Love should hold Ecstasy in joy,
And this orbital has shown Ecstasy
As a drug
And a toy.
It is not about reaching a height of mind.
A tabernacle of souls fallen from treason
And the joy is bestowed to harlequin reaping,
Bid reason?

Ecstasy is not a toy.

But, is about opening the curtains
To welcome a new day,
In the remission I diseased myself,
Surely this safety would power Axes,
Maddest Occultist magik emotion
Lest not forsaken,
Falls all.

And...
At first, I knew the games were real,
I knew how she would feel if one seal was torn away,
She knew I'd love her like the earth
Her ecstasy, her wealth,
I can't believe what we have done,
For we have treated her so wrong
But now I see.

She always threw my dreams down to the ground
With no restraint or even a frown
As she strolled away from me,
I felt inside a pain so deep but this heart bestowed has reaped
Of an Ecstasy in Love
And I know
I'll never lose the pain inside of me.
ô

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Rus Sneddon

Rus Sneddon

Ktima, Troodos Mountains, Cyprus
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