For heavens to slide
To my feet, hells do good.
She’s, than a bird’s glide,
Perfect, for she surpasses,
Blush of love, love of motherhood,
The veils of sleepless nights adore,
Her temples, her lashes
Brew to the burning throat.
Weigh desire, height of jealousy,
A hand in mine, one in Almighty,
A smile to the mightless me, one to the deity:
She looks into my eyes, smiles,
“Live happy, dear, for life
shall give you a hundred me”.
And then is quiet…quiet,
She was, she was, no more
is she, she was, is no more…