I have come,
To provide a heaven;


Rather than giving
Such a metallic seed,
And make believe,
There would be a tree;

I have seen you,
Singing in the temple,
Whereas no one enters,
Unless their mask would be stripped off;

A purple orchid and an orange torch,
Can easily spare some Beauty,
Among Gentiles,
If they're willing to survive one night,
By giving up their crimes;

In which I smell incense no more,
For the air is full of lame coins;

Nevertheless,
I do believe,
There is a light,
At the end of the corridor,
In which,
Your eyes and mine shall create,
A Tower,
Whereas the Blind can find,
An ambrosial Sign.

On the seashore,
I see how,
An auspicious eggshell
Opens itself,
And manifests
Its multicolor pamphlets,
Along the smiling Naiad who
Holds a silver scepter;

A flying kiss emerges,
From her mouth,
And hands me,
A purple scroll,
Containing the story,
Of our most sacred Joy;

Like a Conqueror who's got,
A Cross imprinted on his forehead;

The wind & the sun
Welcome my steps,
Before the blue waves,

And the sand awakes some statues,
To show me her new saints.

My blood has been restored,
To its numinous swaying;

In my bedroom,
I hear a nymph's whisper,
Succumbing,
Before my thinness,

And there isn't any stone,
Getting into my shoe,
To make me walk lamely,
Towards an abandoned house;

A mouth tastes a hieroglyphic elixir,
In which the Pontifex writes his prophecy,
To pink kores,
And the Moon bathes herself,
In such a blue oil;

The body has been made,
To express a God's delights,

In which my ears draw,
A violet warmth,
To reflect my anima's words;

How much longer will we still crash our faces,
Into a drying lake? .-

For denying our inner song is,
Like scratching off a golden coin.

In the temple's corridor,

I see how a red light flashes,

And covers all over;



Its luminosity distillates a fragrance,

Resembling

A marble god's advent,



And the shadow projected on the floor

Shows

His fulfilled prophecy,

Which is written on air and warmth;



Like a flesh-and-blood spirit that walks

On silver crowns and purple orchids;



My hand is able to grasp a sword of His,

And slash the ether,

To make the sun scream.

I have foreseen my Oracle,
In which The Lover displays,
Such a boisterous spear,

And The Priestess rests
On her altar,
To attract new lightings;

Water & air are,
Such a hand,
That grabs a chalice,
To put it
On the right Ark,

And my flesh is,
Like a dancer who
Summons the intermezzo,
Between Dark & Light;

No more nails are spread,
Across the land,
For The Hunter still waits,
To cut off his prey's head;

No more words are lost,
In the twilight,
For the rain does not cry,
To see how plants die;

The Sky is about to pronounce,
His last syllables,
To let us all know,
How a true Balance works.

Let's lay on the Altar,
To submerge our breaths,
In the mist,
Of our atmosphere!

Let's praise Glory,
For delivering herself,
Onto a melting body!

The rise of Life
Dances
On a singing soul,

To show others that,
Even a broken rose
Can be fixed
By a swinging tongue;

Let's awake the Alchemy within!
Whereas a storm and a thunder join each other,
To create a green field;

Evolution resides on,
Make Trinity contemplate,
The arousal of swaying!

On the stairs,
Of the Altar,
I only see one Hope,
Rising up,
To an unmoving Wheel;

Behold,
Statues smile,
At the unfaithful Clown,

For his grinning is not enough,
To shake the dust off his nose;

Behold,
Six candles illuminate
The Devotion,
Everyone wishes,
To get,

And Silence pronounces a yellow whisper,
To open up devotees' eyes,
And to make them look after
Their strongest science;

Meanwhile,
I'm still sit right here,
And enjoying the company,
Of a purple breeze.