Queen Fathima—the Queen of Heaven—
tones down her rose-red color,
lending nature a cool spark.

Boom—it fires up the Big Bang!

So she shades her hue,
puts on her black niqab,
so that in her shadow, nature may flower.

Now the full-blown Scientia—nature itself—
is beyond every hand’s touch,
every eye's full grasp,
yet forever searching
for their Queen—everywhere.

You caught our eye,
sticking out
in a bed of old red and pink flowers.

What's your story?
Perhaps you were just a red or a pink flower
who chose to be yourself.

Or perhaps you were put there
by forces beyond,
to blossom into a messenger.

Thanks for making us think,
and offering a choice to change
while we still have time.

When a flower rises
By the bloom of our emotions
Quickly withers away
The momentary illusion
Like a passing of the leaves
You came and then went away
For the pain of your emotions
Was simply too hard to bear
It doesn't hold a meaning
It doesn't hold a stake
As the bloom of the flower
Was simply, just a flake

Star flower shine so bright
Star flower light up the night

Star flower next to the moon
Star flower grow and bloom

Star flower warm to the heart
Star flower with colors of art

Star flower sings with love
Star flower raise up above

Recreate... Re-create.

She told me that distraction is an art from vile thoughts, the ones that circle 'round, drag me down into the ***.

Recreate... Re-create.

Not distraction from the sort of thing that truly needs attention, but getting back to who I am, a spiritual ascension.

Place those wings upon my back, we all are holy creatures; show me what's inside your soul, the finest of all features.

If your demons drag you down, chain you up, and circle 'round,
Pull yourself up out the cauldron, fight and stand your ground.

'Cause in addition to holy talks is something that has power,
Re-create by recreating, and bloom your long lost inner flower.

One million reasons to cry
Yet I can't find
Which one's mine