A thousand lines and rhymes, recite
A thousand times to send
Unto the sickness of reality
A garden I must tend
A thousand words to curse the Earth
And living things, alike
A line or two will give us food
A feast after the strike
A million breaths of ignorance
Lay hinged upon this door
Open, wider, bring to me
The thought of evermore
Bring to me the bliss
That I forever, need
I bring to you my newborn heart
With all forsaken creed
Shut the gates of Hell, you fools
Block the doors with shame
You will not reach these depths today
And you shall not complain
A thousand lines and rhymes, recite
Let the perfect being pass
Back unto, this newborn state
As I dance on tended grass
Basking in forgotten ness
As further, I advance
For the garden of a tragic life
Is tended by these hands
 
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