your child such a quiet girl... your face one couldn’t take ones gaze from…

to turn towards in smiling haste… the feeling of wasted energy - a poison one wouldn’t want to be without, spreading through the limbs,

 

may worship thy beauty, thou a deadly sin..

 

 

racing towards embrace, married or tarried just one single day…

on Earths Cold clay - your image wishes to stay?...
such sublime pleasure, in your Eyes... - like being gripped with madness - lost Paradise...

the junkie knows this full well, but anyway shoots the sweet swell in his arm forgetting his own way to destructive Hell…

don’t sell your beauty for any price, my dear

 

leave it to Allah who decide the matter, the sweet scent of love through the air…

 

little aged, hardly care..

 

give your ring, to the man most worthy of being treated well…

a prime rose, in its beauty, for which the lover his clothes off tear...
thy petals, shouldn't be teared one by one, but naturally at times decline...
why wait, for sun's course to Winter change... don't let satisfaction seekers lead you astray...