Foreva a marijuana addict 

Words poetry go through you like static

Turn the gentle and subtle to sporadic

In other words you cats can't understand it

Perfect craft, free hand finely sanded

 Trim melts off from the  gilded palace top

As  gold descends from  fortress

Troubled cats steal a glimpse

Enough wealth now, suffice now,to diss

Trained archers at heart, only to miss

The lord knows better than peasants to bliss

Or perhaps he has yet to finish my cist

I do beg those who hear to assist

In exchange those will forever take heed 

Listen and folllow but never live on knees 

May we sail the seven seas, may aphrodite accept my seed

Give birth to the savior this world much does need

my lord...  appears I have spoken with mead in breathe,  for that is me

Spoke to soon and believe that is rarity 

Chase the harlot, secure thy wallot, that is insanity 

Tho of this sin even thy dweller of ears is guilty 

Fruits of satan , fruits of a lustful haven, The cure for the empty craving