Over five decades I’ve tasted
all sorts of poison and wasn’t
satiated by hemlock as Socrates
My comeuppuence manifested
I felt my last hour yet I shall die not
I wasn’t ready to trode the greenery
of the emerald fields of beyond
the gates of Time opened I saw blank. The Blank I painted the new canvas freshly made of bleeched linen
I prayed my heart becomes hard and unpenetreable as Tungsten to endure
all potency of this wordly Hell’s heat
as for the second half I revealed thus
“the Gates of Mystery are opened by Death!”
