faint divine sun dances
between trees and branches
falling upon my fig tree
open my rib, set my heart free.

~and all our fingers,
all our veins,
each are branches of a mission.
and with life we wrinkle,
with age we sacrifice fertile freedom. enlightment keeps us alive
like the nurturing water.
but immortality?
fig is the fruit of realization, as golden wisdom rays bless you, forever.
immortality is
in the wisdom of mysteries.~

fig is a wise man
sitting on a vast, ancient land.
his eyes seem to find something,
in the secrets mist held.

~and you search
all fountains,
all cups,
yet you found it in a lake.
and never,
never so immortal you were,
so thirsty for truth.
fig blessed you,
like the early morning sun rays.
your heart was never so exposed, never so ******,
never so touched...~

under her fig tree.

pearls were ****** like her ruby dagger,
ruby dagger, wears on her belt; dropping venom.
spreading fatal flames with her burning lipstick,
made by the poison of her ruby eyed bloodthirsty serpent.

she knows revenge.

vicious storms brought she,
to a land, oh never was free.
trouble is a woman in need.
needing to see pearls bleed.

all memories like wilted orchid
and i smelled the earth
i remember four quarrelsome stars
slipping beneath my fabric
how i miss them on winding night

belonging is worship
now i became god
and i'm not satisfied
until you give
contentment escapes

and like a god i am,
creating and creating endless ashes
tasting like burnt date
and keep asking to myself
is god ever satisfied?

mother on sand
mother on my hand
mother slips now
like an escaping memory
while sparkling more than ever
urging me to worship.

feet are cut... by melancholia-infested memories.
is this my savior? my never-ending heaven I'm supposed to be in?
no, god never answered me.
here I am, death on earth. earth I am, both of us blend... to eternity.

no curse, no bliss.
no death to undying crisis.
you will never get the key, not on last blink.
die, girl with a poem. die on her last poem.

salvation whispers.