Dark old days plays in the solitude
A drift wood passes through the muddy waters
Driven by the sacred motion of forgetfulness
An eccentric Egyptian woman playing her Zither on a man’s stomach
She’s overwhelmed by the Arabic belly dancer lusting at the King
A night of forty thieves and twenty magician in synchronization
Each having the ability to posses the morning desires
Fruits and wines are welcoming to the prophets
Escaping from Baghdad to daffodils Lane
Our eyes melted upon the birth of a Cherub
~Elijah Saint~
05-06-2082
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