Nile, Let Me Be Worthy Poem by William Blach

I find you cold with palm trees, waiting
your face flows over barriers human made, crushing them
then your hand, reaching a little boy
your feet, your fruitful looks, your sharp voice
evening moon pulls you towards himself
mountains south, appeals you
your blessing, some strange old lust
and now I see the ruins beside
they look as if they’re scared of you
their hidden parts are aware of your touch
should they know thy fury again
they could not last this much anymore

they once were kings and queens
now they are remembered with a cold space glitter
cold as your fate
your source from mountains south
in the temples once great and sound
sisters with bright minds but virginity lost
slaves of crocodiles, animals that you only, feed
only you can feed the passages of history
once they offered their sons to you
once pure flames were offered
but I bury them now, to the valley of kings
to your banks I bury them
so that I shall sleep with your revenge

so to my soul burning with deeds