A Taste of the Ambrosia

On the altar of elation My offering laid bare A craving for sensation Famine haunts the soul who had a taste of the ambrosia A disciple of bedlam in chrysalis Concealed in acts of composure I walked the sacred hallways Of obsession and deceit I waded muddy rivers Of vanity and conceit My hunger ever deeper And I willed it so Drenched in chaos Thus, I willed it On tightropes, I ventured across Those chasms of nausea and fear To overcome the man I was For a taste of the ambrosia From the hollow skulls of the dead Poured the nectar of oblivion And I drenched my trepidations In the blood of innocence Weighted by despondency, I sank into acceptance And to the sound of singing sirens Transformation had commenced