And so it was,

A night full of stars,

In that, the night fell short,

And my doubts were laid to rest,

I noticed myself,

Once again,

Giving up my last breath.

If there was ever a time,

To balance your karma; to listen to God’s arms,

I had a shaken espresso,

That it was watering my plants,

And in such drink,

It fell the master of awe,

That I could no longer,

Sit back and watch agony,

As it poured over into my show.

Whether it be with sticks, crystals, or the godly moon itself,

Sometimes it’s better to know the realm of tools,

Then, for someone else to attack your Orion’s Belt.

Where there lay plants and cooled fossil like stones,

I am no witch,

Through God, himself,

He told me to be careful of the dying fool.

For self righteousness teaches a whirl of lessons,

If only you discover the potion, its rituals, and the scripture of man.