The Red Voice's Conscience

Mountain of Flesh,
Breath of Spirit;

Even in celibacy,
I cannot forget such dancing,
Around my skin.

Even in dreams,
I cannot sing the Psalm of Grace,
In which the thorn is swept aside,
To give birth,
A new love in my heart.

Could I contemplate your glory, 
And not desiring, 
Whichever my mouth eats?

Could I get caressed by your hand, 
And do not long, 
My demon devours you?

Just a smile can draw a destiny, 
Which is marked by two living islands;

Just a blood drop can restore a wasted life
Which was lived among acid and poison ivy.

Sometimes,
It's better to get drowned
Into the Well of Serpents to know that,

Living in the body is not the way
To become exceptional,

And also to realize that,
The arrogance is like an ape
Pretending to be a god.

The pleasure will be embracing such a way,
Our vision is transforming our souls.