Sharon & Shirin 2

Sharon and Shirin met again, to discuss stories and married men. To discuss love of many nights, and centuries of common plight.

The Universe

I am the universe in my own right. I am multitudes, the waters of the flood. I am restless, a huntsman’s bow. I fear to die and not to know this all.

Tomorrow

He says tomorrow, tomorrow is the best. In five thousand years, one hardly finds rest. He says le’at le’at, what’s your haste? My time is precious and yours is just waste.

Tell me

Tell me, tell me – Do I deserve to die? Did I hurt you? Did I make you cry? Tell me, tell me – Would you curse my name? You tried little, too much I cared.

Judgemental Gates

I often thought of the heaven gates that they would be cruel, like sharp blades. I dreamt of a ladder and a mountain path that would lead me to an account of my life. The entrance was there – a silent, murky fence. The trial was looming in fog and reverence. I met God’s servants…

A Soul Torn Apart

Murder there was under shrouds of night. A soul was damaged, torn apart. To the ground, to its mighty core, when the man sold it for glory, he was there, but there was he no more.

Sharon & Shirin

In Golestan there grows a rose. The rose of the valleys, the rose of the storm. Sharon and Shirin is her name, she brought two old peoples to disarray. She made them lie and believe that hatred is effortless – at least it seems.

Anna

Deep was the wetness of that night, a woman robbed her man of his pride. Rumor spread and fight was looming, The town envied, disapproving.   Whatever she did, she loved the thrill. Tenderness, love and the silent chill. All those things that make your will disappear.   In life we pay the price, For…

Raven Men

Of knights and love, stories they could tell, instead they rage like raven men.   They rage like falcons over deserts and mountain tops, to pray for those who for pride lost their hearts.   To prey on those who for madness lost their minds.

Roguery

In state of roguery I deny, that for love of God I shall die. In state of mindlessness I confess, that simple love-making would be the best.