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The uninhabited moon
Is stepping toward the present’s window;
Only now
She inherits the festive of kingdoms of light.

The effortless walk alongside stars,
dreams and birch trees.
There was a miracle
In writing those love letters,
in wander restlessly in secret alleys of feelings.
Now, link to link, the lover like mountains
rest in an evening song,
And the defeated memories
bleed against the sharp sword of moments
as shadows laid on two-lined streets heading to unknown.

Who desires to die again?!
The old world is gone.
Outside of the city of stone and steel
The lover voyages over the new foreign lands of love.
Uprooted intense emotions illuminated by energy of light,
she left all in white and walk through dark forests
beyond the hills and roses
only now, burns in her heart’s deep twilight.

The lover flights in forever circling,
The ache in her bones decomposed the sand
She dangles over clouds,
the ecstasy in her wings moves her forward;
like ocean waves spread out
with her silvery silk touch
across borderless future;
while sun murmurs the mystery of love
in her shinny golden beats.
This is the world of the lover;
Honey and milk
Intense and serene,
Standing like brave lilies,
beyond stories of fear, hate and despair,
Hovering between light and shade
Tasting caramelized figs.
Who desires to die again?
No tongue of a lover can ever answer.

For those who fly into unknown sky,
Day and night
Race over the waves of love
Swing between two-lined streets
Twist in roaring of winds;
Writing love letters is a seductive temptation
To consult with death, fire and garden of roses
before make up something miraculous from nothing.
To plant a fig tree
In a centre of wide open sea,
To take root where they may
to move closer to festive life.
Between roars of winds,
the lover becomes
the master of the sea.

Serena Devi, January 2014

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