Ignite the fire inside earth,
by throwing some of my wood on its hearth.
When I destroy my final friend,
melancholy doldrums of yesterday will end.
Riding the wave of yesterday,
has washed me up on the shores of today;
More tiresome cliches, I fear,
about why my complete happiness disappeared.
Shut the door before you depart
Prevent the chill before the tempest starts
The starry sky sparkles promise;
A mirror reflecting what's inside all of us.
Wait at the two golden arches,
I'll be there for the angelic marches.
Will clouds cling like mud to their boots?
Will heaven echo with melodies of their flutes?
Wait at the siamese canine,
I'll be there for the demonic drumline.
Will flames singe their crooked webbed toes?
Will hell's salted soil be able to spring a rose?
Blabbering banter about death,
has caused me to lose sight of what was left.
Drunk as a skunk, and twice as foul,
if people are god's children, call me god's bowel.
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