A Taste of the Ambrosia

On the altar of elation
My offering laid bare
A craving for sensation
Famine haunts the soul
Who had a taste of the ambrosia

A disciple of bedlam in chrysalis
Concealed in acts of composure
I walked the sacred hallways
Of obsession and deceit
I waded muddy rivers
Of vanity and conceit
My hunger ever deeper

And I willed it so
Drenched in chaos
Thus, I willed it

On tightropes, I ventured across
Those chasms of nausea and fear
To overcome the man I was
For a taste of the ambrosia

From the hollow skulls of the dead
Poured the nectar of oblivion
And I drenched my trepidations
In the blood of innocence
Weighted by despondency
I sank into acceptance
And to the sound of singing sirens
Transformation had commenced