The pain without the calvary
Heaven's plenty enough for me
What waking worlds crease when encumbered
with sweet and true austerity
What devils dare to duel
for such a simple prize as soul sans sanity
Ought angels fear their virtue?
To clear a telling tale of all its wealth
to cleanse a heart of age, all bent on reverie
To stand upright amid disaster
to grim within the knell
while grilling peers for exits
To saunter into pain unfazed
aceepting all the forfeits
I'd CENSOR art for your foreign touch
for your gay and lasting gaze
I'd enter into perils unplanned
if it would arrest your heart's demise.
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