Come and see, simple life may be.

Over wonderful lands,

Bright as a fucking tulip from the Netherlands

Not a fucking natural beautiful flower,

It’s a disease, uncontrolled and merciless

As the Sun traitor that burns its subjects,

Like Zeus turning into a Bull like I am,

And fuck fuck while he still can.

Not that I am afraid of frightful dear Hera, 

Come and see

You’ll meet the most irrational, unpredictable that be,

And say how come, this swhit of a mortal that

Can pick lover’s, betrode, and laugh at us, gods?

I see above your pitiful Olympus

From another era where tech mages

Manipulate spacetime, and their voluntas

Voluntas greater than we gods, 

Humans have surpassed all we have been,

And reality is no(0)T what it always have seemed

Especially they have hate to be redeem

They love the sin, even what Christian pity may have seemed

We have to say it again, they love sin and play to win.

From ahead, a web we see, a tainted print of danger,

From above we devise another potential demise,

From the present we are blind to such inquivocal finds.

We talk about universal wave function, 

Quantum unentanglement, non locality,

Hot words as fields, massive black holes, fiction?

We threw words like the old Ether as in Dark Energy,

As in physics we’re waiting for an epiphany.

Hot words as fields

As the ganges keeps its waters somewhat dirty,

Hot words as fieldsAs when we talk openly about good extreme sex,

Next time we are catalogued as minds messy and murky.

Baby, this is not poetry, saint be, this is theology.

As the four quartets may be a sacred text, that be.