Prologue

Mighty fist of the ocean,

wind roves with no feather,

huge splashes of salt-water,

engraving three images on

the beach sand of those

who choose to rise...

Chemistry of Art,

the eruptions of impulse,

from the streams of a heart,

which flow and pour without a pulse,

erasing doubts from every mind,

darkness which shade it blind.

Shed it for the flock and priest

alike O’ lord Jesus Christ,

so the kingdom may be for all,

when we gather around the hall...

Let your sacred blood flow away!

Its light show them the right way!

(all ye poets), only if in your heart,