I dreamt I killed a god,
withstood the scorpions of his mind,
woke up in his body,
turned his face into mine.

I freed his slaves,
healed their wounds,
tore down his churches,
erased the sound of his name.

I found a desert,
with a broken people,
made a sea of pure water,
a grove of endless fruit trees,
and a mountain of black stone.

With black children,
I surfed, I climbed, I ate
I took away fear, I took away pain,
I took everything but death.

I fell in love with a black queen,
who had no kingdom,
her being filled with more soul,
than some family trees.
She sung only truth

We danced under the stars,
she asked me:
What do you stand for?
What would you die for?
Are you willing to love?

I kissed her skin,
made love to her scars,
listened to the music of her,
wiped her hidden tears.

I awoke alone on the beach,
everyone sleeping in their homes,
protected from the morning cold,
the slow breeze singing of peace.

I waited at a bus stop,
climbed an empty bus with no destination,
watched the beach pass by,
and all the other infinite landscapes.

I slept and woke,
sung and wrote,
watched a thousand people come and go,
found myself sobbing tears,
how lonely it is to be god.