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