On the eleventh night I saw passion in its purest form
For of the eleventh night she alleviated the sand’s zealous fire
With the embers of a desert’s flame
While manifesting in time her awaited essence

Leaving me paralyzed to the sparks that dwindled
Underneath the inferno which brimmed from the scorching sun
A devout spirit to luster within an afterglow of my own frantic lust
She was the oasis to ale this fever torturing a torched lonesome soul

Thereby a bit of water on the eleventh night
From the eleventh star as I slept within her bosom

Allowing intensity to strike with a blazing deluge of energy
That I thought I had lost to this unforgiving Sahara,
Therefore in a swift moment I came to adored her
As she was Sanskrit inscribed among this land as Aquarius

An illusion of death held for eleven days
Until she poured a life sustaining nectar upon my brow
Who was this princess baptizing men in this barren dried up sea
Cleansing them of a scalding, blistering fury

I wish, I wish I could tell you myself
Although upon the twelfth morning she left; carrying my love for her as a payment
Thus all that really became of her sacred waters
Was a search for a wasteland hot enough to evaporate these sacred tears

My survival alone only a gift to commit sacrilege how could this ever come to be…

Eleven days will I cry out of passion for her
For eleven days will I bury my sorrows in these shifting sands
Perhaps then,
When I am weary will see her again

Delusional, one can walk treading in this heat I know
Yet, as I journey away from this sanctuary in which we laid
And as my sanity is recalled my memories tend to say

I have done this all too many times
Furthermore, I have seen her image before
My salvation, I feel as if you and I have an unspoken lore

~ Paradise Poet ~