Two planets with their two darker moons, resurrect us -
Each day, with the white moonrays we daren't discuss,
Two slivers from the divine universe, a universe blue,
Little slivers from the forbidden universe we pursue.
Planets beloved to the thirsty, lustful, and followers -
Upon glimpsing, they are not human, but wallowers!
There, they are the purest, truest, and free of lies,
Where embraces, forced or not, reveal the disguise.
Life in the core, beige seas, and a moon blessing,
Are what is unveiled with a universe *******,
It weeps, it bleeds stars, and breached by invaders,
But they care not, those ****** greedy crusaders!
If close enough, ghostly sanity lost is what remains,
But blame yourself not! Blame a universe in chains!
"The dreaded desires to occupy are the poor victims",
Said some of the species, the law and judges' dictums.
Their planets' soil is honey, we are bears longing,
Moons are grapes rare, and beauty we are wronging.
Withered, breathless and embroidered in oldness,
Are those planets, caressing fabric killing coldness.
Non-Indigenous habitants wish to knit filth to them,
Impermeable the unknown are, with their ***** stem.
They cut air, with their unclean air, as if it is theirs!
They are afraid of the charm, yet they want shares!
They seek them undercover, the religious, and all.
Yet play pretend they prefer, from the US to Nepal.
Dazzling is humanity's cheerful reign on morality,
It is filled with nonsense, yet they shape our reality.
Sheet yourself with an atmosphere black as smoke,
From the animalistic createurs close whose fire stroke.
Knives shall be your trees that bloom, to protect,
And save you, from the ****** beasts you reject.
In the words above, and what is not their delusion,
Women are universes, divine and soaked with effusion -
An effusion of fear, power, insecurity and greatness,
Whose fight is wrinkled with rigidity and lateness.
Planets two, that if shown to the eyes stop cities,
Anger narrowness and to wrap, form committees,
Planets called *******, giving out milk legendary;
Reviving of race; a continuum of us, the secondary.
A man's world this is, but God's universe is not,
Touch not the grace bringing life to blood, you clot,
The universe is womanhood, and refuge they seek,
From their womanhood defiled by thoughts oblique.