Morality is a dress that doesn’t fit,
Tight, boring, and long since faded.
Why listen to a weary priest,
When wine sparkles in the glass?
We yearn for the heavens while sitting in the mire,
But the fear of temptation is worse than vice itself.
The best dreams are frank and fervent,
Where every gesture is a step into the unknown.
To fight? What a senseless game!
It only poisons our fragile spirit.
The soul that does not burn from desire
Loses its color and becomes like down.
The harder you push the shadow away,
The closer it will approach in the night.
In the labyrinths of one’s own dreams,
The keys to salvation have been burned.
The only way to overcome the phantom –
Is to surrender to it without unnecessary prayers.
I long to unravel the world’s secrets
Through the taste of fruits that promise blood.
To bite into sin like a ripe orange,
And drink this luxury to the end.
Only he is free who, amidst the ruins,
Has preserved the grin of an audacious face.
Let the sanctimonious pray in the corner –
We will transform our days into a sharp work of art.
In this exquisite, wild flowerbed,
Only Ecstasy is our true idol.
Anti-Dogma
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