Coding The Lionman Poem by Norman F. Santos

A Goddess she was, skirting the town with her presence
Her lunatic glow clearly forebodes beams of liberation
An opaque light: a stark sublimation of sterile illumination
It struck his thin fringes as he had clandestinely wished
Dissipating the toll of encumbrance and repugnance
Of his crumbling faith like toppled columns of Churches
And of the squalid pseudo-bliss in the kneeling hypocrites
Trampling the cramped den, revealing a hungry and weary Lion
A potent behemoth ironically clad with superficiality and blatancy
Was unshackled from reality and divorced with rationality
A castration that paved way to a superior transcendence
Elation spoused with a non-carnal impetus, a widow of lust
Her presence sinks into his impermeable but lithe skin
A skin akin to the harlequins, he loathes with the indignation
She’s a drug infesting fertile grounds, digging giant craters
Boring a basin of colossal rivers that runs beneath his skin
He opened his eyes to find himself parked in an ornate forest
The smell of almond, the scent of summer and the icy wind
An ominous pair in an innocuous night, he hoped for the best
Before he knew, he was in an arcane frenzy, a sublime hedonism
A need, a hunger for the drug. Oblivion jostles in his vault
He attempted to reach his Goddess. He tried, but his endeavor remained futile.