Poseidon rises on a wave of foam,
his trident slew Mirth through the throat. Her Kin Cheer
and Beauty on the other bloodied spears,
supplied a chorus for the requiem
played long on his conch. The paint is peeling
from the walls of my mind in this foul dream
I see Adam's tongue become serpentine.
My heart a mortal wound, will need to steal
away from the depths of Hell where I reside,
though still on Earth. True, sin grew from the hands
of woman, but birthed from the mouth of man.
None can hide the light that comes from inside,
mistakes aside, my glim beams over the land
and begs for the hand of the saviour of man.