About the Old Hope

A Poem by Ascanius

What else can I do
If you still deny your true nature?

What else can I say
If you're still stabbing to yourself?

Not in vain,
The Grace is covering us,
In which the false kiss is getting naked,
For submerging us
Into the abyss.

Let's revive the Old Divinity!
Let's awake the New Tablets!

The Patience is just a helmet
Whereas we're accustomed to feel
The same heaviness;

And words only serve
To announce a sweet pain.

How I'd like to scrub my heart
To succumb around the superfluous religion!

How I'd like to shake my spirit
To procreate a new god!

The Earth does not call to the ones who are ghosts.

I have walked along centuries ago,
To know that the divine isn't gotten
By repressing the Beauty;

And also to be sure that,

If Spirituality has no direction to follow up;
It will become in Madness.