As soft as fresh baked bread

And sweet as honey it all appears;

As long as the Starts blink in the skies

Men this elusive grail would always seek,

Were it not for this same stuff

Some Angels lost their place?

While ruddy drops our hearts does bleed

This Seed more Souls would seal

Our lust for it weighs more than all, yet

More heads from it would roll down hell

Many more from it will live in pain

It’s Virtue Worn Upside down

All men it holds as bangled slaves

Though Sweet, it Sours our taste for good

Making us stoop and bleed in shame.

With it this world’s a weary place

From it we ought to Flee

It gives a glory bound in Falsehood

A Crown of curse it serves

Those men who taste not of its seeds

Who more like lambs doth live their lives

Are happy, made and always great


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