I wrote to your sacrilege Toasted your haram You were an idol among the dregs I was a totem in your palm Love lifts within the scent leaving the body to quiver all once between us, rent, only combustible twigs to give her Hence, We ask of death to teach us life Burn our nests For torchlight to shine the way home and weep of love for which I'll die, For writing such a poem.
Poets Note: Go down dark and deep beloveds it's good to go to those dark places within, it's there that we burn and into that fire, we dip our torches to light our way out again. go blind in your own light and descend, for many a stirred soul will sway and rustle in the same divine wind; and all this to fill the spirit's silent wing by which your voice ascends.