I want a divine oblivion, bright white clouds, no more pain, no more being a neighbor to the dead, make them live, your realm of endless light, make them live, please, I want the ordained and churches burned for blasphemy, the Pope on an inverted cross, naked and saggy, his unholy joy exposed and cut off, blest audiences of passer-bys, this seraphic glow of an unfaded rose, your Rose with deluded eyes and schizophrenia, the teeth snapping, bite me, I bite them, I feel sorry for them, I really do, they depart from God and He does not know them, He knows me, my left hand, my right, my stench of snobbery, my flaws, my rabid anger and how the dead bury the dead, love and hate, every day, it doesn't stop, I don't know why it's like this, it's always like this.