There is something very clear in loving
many more everythings
than you can handle.
Impossible to choose one candle
from the endless stream of fireworks.

There is something very clear in abusing
the gift of sympathy
in losing.
No one respects a perfect record.
The glory is in the adversity.

So let your eyes burn bright
with volatile passion.
Let your manic side loose.
Go ahead and fool them
into thinking you're a demon
bent on chaos.
It'll be their loss.

And with serenity,
finally,
you will plunge into the eye of their storm
and sleep with the brave ones,
pining like grave nuns,
waiting for God
to place the rings on their fingers.