As edited by @chime221
There is a dimly lit narrow bush path
that leads to heaven; may it not lead me to hell!
There’s only one way in and one way out,
Hands clamped, focus set, determined eyes
on the journey of a thousand miles to sin,
Sin is only a nomenclature!
It’s your first time, but the path is not unfamiliar
You must guide me all the way.
I am blind but I can see that
the path is wet and slippery,
a virgin farmland and well fallowed.
I have corked my gun
And the liquid powder is ready to pour.
Ensure that I stay on the wet path,
Guide me slowly and gently
Through your dark alcove:
Mortals maternal birth point!
There’s a sweet bitter sensation
As I pass to and fro
and you hold me so close like the
grip of a seasoned wrestler.
Up and down it goes, my feet
Tilling and cultivating your farmland.
Your voice is delicious to my ears;
The louder you moan in sweet pain, the better
As the joy envelopes us and we await
the fruitage of our very own sweat.