Always

I always love that first hit,
I love how the still green weed hits my lips,
Then penetrates quietly into the depths of my lungs,
And, soon enough, it has entered my brain.

I always know that sensation
I recognize it not as something external.
This feeling is intrinsic; it has always been there,
And during the trip I can have it in all its splendor

I always have a good trip
For that feeling is freedom of mind and heart,
And so we are born till we are thrown
From the peaceful abyss of the womb
Onto the treacherous and perilous light

I always like to smoke beneath weak light,
Alone inside the labyrinth of my mind,
I am aware of myself and the truth, the real light,
But just when I feel it's all too much,
I return to my humane, ignorant, state of feeling and of mind.

And so I leave that place with golden shores,
Of dancing lights during the twilight,
Of breaking clouds of colorful smoke,
Of wonder and delight;
I leave this island inside reality,
But I shall always, always, go back.