The soil holds thee now.
The tombstone now makes
you an anonymous one.
But, you remain alive in my
...
Yamin, Yamin!
Where may I find you?
When can I hold you
for a moment or more?
...
There is a verse
missing from my unfinished song.
A melody is lacking
to complete the music.
...
If your daily routine
becomes too great to bare,
then don't count on me
to soothe the insanity.
...
A storm of passion
infuses within their loins.
Their candle-light compassion
...
My heart is your footstool
My soul is your battlefield
But can you claim me for anything?
...
My body suffers from an intense desire,
so much appetence.
To have your head buried between my thighs
and your hands cupping my breasts and caressing my face
...
My neck,
a victim of my bad deeds,
will know no longer
how it feels to swallow a last meal
...