Like Henry I swayed my sword upon
White pages but dark without wisdom
Attacking the palace of Palestine
And contravening the head of the bishop
I crowned myself the unborn emperor.

I rode the chariot of the sun
The moon being my abstract driver
Drawing out stars into constellation of demons
So that I can chalk them out one new moon night
And become the marshal of Constantine laws.

Here on my pages I made god’s descend
Make love to live forms like never before
I have solved the mysteries before and after birth
But nothing is reinvented and remained as they were
Not buried this time but surfacing like clouds that will rain.