Morpheus,
Asclepius,
et Sulis Minerva
Amen.*

A warmth cradles me to another world
Of peace, of paradise beyond man
Of innocence, of faith
Of judgement, of wrath.

I hold my limbs up high
As I caress with the rock hard slab
Scrubbing the sin away
The resilient dirt which must part.

The hairs quiver
Under the residue
The slimy depths of disgrace
That I shed; milky, cloudy, impure.

The beast howls within me
Convulsing as the tainted broth
Stains my eyes
Begging mercy, penance aflow.

At last! I am free
From the evils
That plague me all my days
Pray now, I should not return.