There is a cup of wine in this barren dessert
But this world prohibits me to take a sip
I am a thirsty man, it gives me pleasure
But in the state of oblivion, I have sinned.

One sip of wine is what draws the line
One sip of wine is what makes this world decide
whether I am a pious person, sliding down the shiny pearls
or a drunken lover, whirling in circles.

There is no name for the union of fire and water
They just create tales about the two poor lovers
And when they unite, evaporation is only witnessed
Instead of the state in which they both enter.

Such is the working of this wonderful Earth
Where seeing is believing, and believing creates Trust
Whatever is veiled, does not exists
Such is love, a long lost art
And this world is lacking artists.

the retreat behind the curtain
a place you feel almost sane
where the silence and the storm
vie for the madness in your mind

a poets dreamy palace
made from sticks and paper
a floor opening up
and the sky for a bed

you want to sleep to dream
and dream yourself awake
where death may find you
mid way betwixt them both.