For those in morning amazement
And evening awe
Those of you consumed by your own wild desires
Constantly popping the corks of your subconscious
Bless you to hell
Or damn you to heaven
Whatever your strokes of pleasure create
Poets that I have read
And pulled on their thread
We were all born to love
All living to die
And before our eyes
Awakened each day to drive over the edge
To jump at the chance
To open ourselves to madness
For a mere point to stand on
Earnestly biting into that fruit
The only sin would be not to
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