To-ward

 It was pleasant while it lasted

 Not much to say, as I do not recall

    ( most of the pleasures I picked

     from the trees thick-

     -er than they should have been)

 But still lonely and green

 For a good enough reason:

 Those trees we were still shaping

They smelled better than they tasted

     (hand-picked fruits

     from the pleasure trees

     planted by a devotee

     on heaven-building duty)

 Heavens that are as pure as coal

 Duties made our mouths sore

 For a good enough reason:

 The soil was poor

Do not look back on those days as though they were wasted

 Not much to see, as I hardly recall

     (anything other than our fortune

     and us desiring, at any opportune moment

     to be possessed, haunted and to be tortured)

 Nothing has flourished there that stayed

     (other than the builders that have been flayed

     one by one by the one who prayed

     for them to be forsaken)

 For a good enough reason:

 The intention was always to invade

Memories I copied and to my future I pasted

 The ones to corrosion that had endured

     (and had not been obscured

     by the agony that they themselves produced

     or by the filthy thoughts that they often allured)

 The rest I erased, and am cured

 For a good enough reason:

 I once was adored and not anymore

 Irrelevant as they get my desires are therefore

 I am cured and free to go for-

     -ward