Neoarchaean

5. Neoarchaean
 True sorrow doesn't flirt with hope
 No matter how great it may be: hope rises twice as high
 But spare me these seekers!
 Leave me in peace
 Down with them, down, down, down, down! That which suffers, does never hope
 For they will no longer impress me
 With all of the solemnity and with the voice of my greatest days: I call to you my hearth, glorious hope! Wrapped in the cloak of illusions
 Come and sit beside me
 On the tripod of appeasement
 With a whip of scorpions I chased you! If you wish me to believe that
 You have forgotten all the grief
 Which my short-lived repentance caused you: Well, then bring along with you
 The sublime procession - hold me up, I am fainting! - of all the virtues which I offended... and their everlasting atonements
 Yes, good people
 I order you to burn
 On a spade red-hot from the fire
 And with a little yellow sugar for good measure: to burn the duck of doubt
 With its vermouth lips... which in the melancholy struggle between good and evil
 Shedding teardrops which are not heartfelt
 Creates everywhere, universal emptiness! It is the best thing you can do
 Certainly, flesh and bone, you have no reason to blush: but listen to me
 I don't invoke your understanding
 It would spit blood at the horror you cause! Better forget all about it, and be consistent with yourselves! There were no constraints there
 Whenever I wanted to kill... I killed