The scars carved in the ribs of time,
Dripping like drops of blood into the veins of history,
Every breath poisoned by the sting of betrayal,
A distant lamp of the purest hope
Burns with an eternal radiance, piercing the darkness.

All resolutions hindered along the simple line of existence,
Deep sorrow embraces in the silence of words,
Within a moment resides a forgotten flame,
Burning like fire, a supreme turmoil in the sky of purity,
With every breath, every sigh, the final call of purity resounds.

Through the emptiness of the new moon’s depths of all consciousness float,
The erosion of time masks the pledge of inner integrity,
Truth is silently buried beneath layers of alluvial soil,
The moment turns into a state of deep emptiness,
The call for purity rises from the depths of the abyss.

Homes weeping in history—lands of war,
Humanity’s shell torn apart, the temple of the soul shattered,
Restlessness awakens in the shallow depths—wounds of time,
Beyond the boundaries of the world, the embryo of eternal truth
Answers the merciless call of purity, where the remedy of perpetual peace resides.

Her heart is clean
It's white
Like rabbit
It's clear
From bad habits
She is the Lily
Of this filthy Valley.

If her heart
Dared to get a bit
Of filth anyway
She would be shammed
She might as well wither away
The world is no place
For a perfect white lily
Why should we judge
All humans are silly
Even the purest girl out there
Can make mistakes.

Reckless unlucky poor wretch
She’s roamed much. She’s suffered much.
And no matter what happens around her,
It’s all the one – she is still such.

She was in any way kind to world.
She never had any blackhearted thoughts.
She trusted much, dissolved in love.
She gave herself with no second thoughts.

She slipped away into her love.
She was sure no poison was there,
No rude and mortal human drafts.
There was only the truth! And nothing else never!

But there was a lot of dirt in real,
A lot of stiffness, a lot of falsehood.
She gave her love with no doubt an’ fear
And they in reply only croak of crows.  

She’s so panny plain, naive and homely
And she still live against the odds.
She roams the world and dumbly shuffling
Forever forbids herself to love.

When I was a child light shone
angels through my fingers
crowning my parents’ faces,
blessing the simple tasks of theirs:
table setting, pouring water—
how it lit the world in my upturned smile
and flowed through as I grew
and how it followed me home
and stayed, even in the dark.

Light was the water, earth,
reflecting off every animal,
every street, everything I touched—
the light always ahead,
the darkness, just softly behind
—doubts, questions, thoughts—
light, enlightening the dark words
of my mind and mouth.

And when the darkness caught up,  
and I watched my parents fall behind,
my body/smile down-turn to groan
and my thoughts and words
turn to memories— I realized how
the past was always near and how
grief turned everything to light.

i'm innocent!
no virtue spent
on fake affection from a gent

and i won't laugh
at stupid jokes
for vain attention from a bloke

you couldn't pay
for me to lie
for cheap comfort from a guy

but every now
and then, again
my path is crossed by finer men

and if i find
for me to mind
a soul to which my soul can bind

then bound to him
my heart will be,
with my virtue, for him for free

i'll love him so
but here's the thing
it will still cost a wedding ring!