i want to share ambrosia with you under a sheet
prety cool, worth the journey
through the storm, god is my witness, he is there every step of the way
he sifts the devoted from the kleenex
the loyal body of whirlind efimeral power dealers
but im anaesthisised, the real paradise was unattainable
so a drink and chemical bliss was close enough
redemption
But why so much sadness, happyness is great
and everybody wants it more than sadness
forever switchig the material reward
in my cave there is only me and my shadow
come and taste me with a botle of ambrosia
we will swich the cards an lay our love in the firmament
passionate victims of the gods
waiting for lift off in the clear light of the moon
mission completted
the bread has been eaten
the bewitched fools, have met their doom
love was my god and paradise
but it was an illusion,
the closest to a real paradise but you slashed my shirt
the conoseurs of gods love
have their pleasure
a moment in paradise
the guilty will lack concience of their actions in the eyes of the all powerful servant
those who love the asphalt
thir life will be hard
for those who sit amongst the roses will witness compeling miracles
those who love god will be, and rewarded
theirs will be the fire
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem