The self-decline bastion of human rights, rises above,
But gravity makes angels fall,
They chased Lilith out of pardes
Arguments for killing of one another’s kin,
She here white money whispering about a could, dead and flemming goal
In the end we might be hurte
and after hurte there is healing
Red shines from the sorrow of oppression
She sharpen care and connection as a weapon
Related Blogposts
I am The Phoenix. My wings are of fire and my tears are of hope. I move through countless cycles of death and rebirth during my time on earth. My first death reduced me to coal and ashes, but after some time, I was embraced by a motherly wing and…
Look at you. Look at the way you stand there, as a body in this universe. Waiting to enter the Sisters Home. Waiting just like me. To sense the unsensuous. The impossible dream. Waiting for the wonderful honesty. Look at that body. Look at this body. Capturing the YOU inside…