Guest guest Posted October 9, 2002 Report Share Posted October 9, 2002 This scythe of moon has slit my throat and Now only moonshine is pouring out. Last July my mother died, today my grand-daughter was born. I remember the last words from the dream: "Nothing is forgotten." Something exquisitely sharp has carved out my eyes, replacing them with fire. I see you now -- I cannot bear it! My Love -- My Madness! I have to say these things while they burn my heart – There is nothing but You! >From this incinerator I am crying, Let me smear Your Chest with my ash! Let me be that flaming pyre out on the lake – the one I saw before I knew fire! The one that has returned to this heart to ravage and wreak its devastation! Let me die in You! I am born in You! This moment here in the midst of the furnace is not ours – We are fuel of Shiva. Om Shiva! ShivAllah! Beloved, O Beloved -- What is this? What is this? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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