I tell the heart what to think,
i tell the heart what to feel,
but its ruthless blind decision,
sent it on its own erand,
to there where it ravages lie,
there where it woes are designed.

In its engulfment its grips flee,
at the aura of your presence it vulnerability emerged.
In thorn and jaded i gathered my nights,
my eyes goes on erand, when all goes to slumber,
counting painstakingly numbers of my ceiling.

At the brightning of your teeth
when they are uncovered from your smiles,
all host my sleepless night.
At the ogle of your eyes
my heart looses its defences,
in this ocean where my heart swims in your thought i write,
from the dawn i set my gaze on you,
my heart knows no pleasure in rest.

She was the burning sun
Giving us all warmth

She was the moon and the stars
Brightning up the darkest hours

She was the flowers on the field
Colouring the green, green grass

She was the waves in the blue sea
Calming and relaxing for the mind

She was the blowing wind
Pushing us when our sails stand still

She was the singing birds
Making our mood so good

She was so much
For me everything

Humanity yearns so desperately
to equal God's great creativity.
In some creations, how we shine:
music, dance, storyweaving, wine.

The thunderstorms of madness
rain upon us, flooding sadness,
sweep us into anguish, grief,
into despair without relief.

We're drawn to high castles,
where old hunchbacked vessals
glare wall-eyed as lightning
flares without brightning.

Laboratories in the high towers,
where the doctor wields power,
creating new life in a dark hour,
in the belfry of the high tower.