dear little brother Søren,
do not let
your pathetic
morning-soul disfigure
your of the Lord
illuminated garnet cheeks
with your half-
hearted
port wine tears –
– – – |
remember Søren,
that it is a thousand fold
better to have
seen the Lord your God’s
image from your brandy’s
light-coloured mountain,
than to never have
felt His hand
on your head –
o Søren, think of
the thousands, who
never felt
THE HAND OF THE LORD –!
and smile your love-
ly apostle-smile
through this ac-
cursed morning –
tonight we’ll walk
on the mountain in
wine yard alley and
whisper, for Satan’s money,
directly with the Lord God –
– – –
think, courageous Søren, this
morning of the
thousand souls, who
never for all their lives and
long years and all of
Satan’s money have
felt the heavenly breath
of God –
Søren, you man of the Lord,
mirror the sun of the angels |
in your faith’s garnet-red
cheeks –!
THE REALM is close –
we
two have seen way too much
to ever be able to
fail the sign –