Nectar saccharine.
Then again, tormentuous.
No religion ever harbored thy mind.
Yet thou enraptured, bow.
A church contrived of thickened glass, or a chapel metallic,
propounded pleasure tranquil.
Thy horrors and torture forgotten every time thou pray.
Thou squander thy household and thy children.
Indignation enshrouded resentment.
Screams turned bellows and walls perforated.
Thou children pursue thy approval and time,
But thou pray and drown thyself in nectar saccharine and thus lose thyself and thy children.
Nectar doesn't destroy thy demons,
But merely coerces thyself to become one.
Mania a potu
