57.

The hymns usher,

Our souls that stutter.

Into the higher existence,

Releasing us of our prison.

The hymns silently are sung,

And the drums beat.

The water is silently rung,

As evaporated into the heat.

Alone I find myself, with my heart’s beat.

Living in a hell gladly, I presume that things can change in due time.

I am misunderstood loudly.

I misunderstand proudly.

Finding the means to love,

While finding the meaning of love.

And I stare at myself sourly.

I find love in and out of me.

Wishing for teaming of love,

divine woman, tell me, what are your wants.

Dreaming of ways to be;

Without you, I can’t see…