Ode to BacchusAwaits at the door I praise you Oh great one Remove the pain Another drop Of your blood A shot to the soul Lifting, tilting I dance, Euphoric. The wind whispers your name A thousand names Each older than the first Each truer than the last Spilling over time I partake The ancient ritual Passing the goblet It rests on my lips Fire sent to my heart As I, too, Become God. |
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