Colorful passionate flames of masochism and anger
danced around her body and soul.
Her face turned the color of grey ashes left over from a smoldering
winter fire.
From within the internal self, blossoms forth the flowers of
revelation.
As the waves of the Atlantic ocean unfolds , spumes a white foam
of epiphany.
Revelation spumes from the spiritual light of her eyes.
Verses of epiphanic visions spume in from between her indelible lips.
Her invisible aura was to be sewn on the tapestry of life where threads
of gold, white, and black meander in many directions.
As night approaches like a timid lover,
She wears the black cloak of Darma.
Having drunk from the wine of sin, the innocense of a child dies in her.
In shedding the cocoon of masochism and passion, spills forth innocense and wision on to the velevety surface of introspection.
As the skin of her cheek and the membranes of her lips drooped down with the death of love, the wings of her solitary existence fly into the sky of creative expression and love for the world.