The Story
The Reed’s Sigh
The reed sighs the call from the Source.
Ancient spells, before the moons.
Each note embraces,
bodies tremble.
The world, gently, closes.
The Captured Gaze
The eye brushes the eye.
In the pupil,
the vertigo of an ancient decree.
A breath, a shiver.
The moment freezes.
She sees him. He holds her.
The Moon at the Sun
In the embrace of the walls,
hands weave a nest.
The fertile body watches,
moon suspended before dusk.
The beginning trembles.
Time holds its breath.
The Crowning of the Egg
Sacred statue, at the height of her glory,
Celestial crown
upon her emptied womb.
Below, gazes bow before the beginning.
Beneath the moon’s dust,
the void watches.
The Forgotten One’s Ball
At the windows, the feast spins,
Breath suspended
beyond the world, beyond time.
Life dances without her.
An endless circle around the beginning.
The Night’s Forgetting
What gives nothing cannot be kept.
Hands, closed doors,
shut to pierced souls.
A star falls,
Into the moonless night.
A breath, then nothing.
The Simurgh’s Embrace
Beneath the Simurgh’s endless wing,
the womb opens to breath,
Echo of a thousand winds.
She dissolves into the feather,
With only the sea as witness.
Nameless, she is reborn.
A new moon calls her.
The Flame that Forges
The sea closes.
The stone opens.
In the hollow, a flame dances,
soft, fierce.
The fire cannot be seized.
It enters, it consumes.
A New World With no End
The hooves of Buraq
split a moonless sky.
They cross the void,
Without beginning, without end,
Without form, without name.
A light bursts forth,
brighter than nothingness.
What Still Burns
The sea remembers
the passing souls.
Full of emptiness, it overflows.
The fire draws its border.
A thousand flames against forgetting.
Illuminate.
Wound in the Wind
The sand bleeds.
The hooves strike.
The wind exhumes the cries.
The bite splits the skin.
The muscle remembers.
Flesh against light.
Shadow against nerve.
The truth breaks open.
The Throat of the Void
The man becomes silence.
The tree does not tremble.
In the shadow, they rise —
echoes of an open womb,
ancient choirs,
endless birth.
She is no longer alone.
Birth of the Thousand Heads
Empty wombs, open doors.
From each, an army is born.
Full of nothing, strong with all.
A thousand breaths — one voice.
The earth shudders,
then bows.
Rage and Sand, Ash and Wind
In the dust, rage erupts.
One body, a thousand heads,
a gaping hollow.
The wind dances.
The earth trembles.
The camp fades.
Unifying the Void
One body, two breaths.
One rends, the other embraces.
Teeth locked, iris brushed.
Beneath the shadow, a fragile peace.
Silence wounds no more.
The world breathes.
The Radiance of Return
What fled regains its forgotten form.
Absent among the living,
the moon erases the wounds.
Arms open.
The void fills.
The eyes search no more.
Come, I’ll Take You
Alone with the void,
another voice rises.
The black moon joins the full.
The shadow touches the light.
The void opens —
it becomes a path.
All is reborn.
The Man of Pleasure
When the body expects nothing,
it receives it all.
The flesh trembles,
the skin stretches.
The moment passes through.
Nothing to carry, nothing to hold.
Only surrender.
The Fertile of the Void
Nothing has been sown.
Nothing is meant to bloom.
Wombs open to the wind.
Without seeds, without fruit,
They move the moon.
The sky falls silent.
The world listens.
Fertile Abyss
Nothing grows — everything throbs.
Full of emptiness, empty of fear,
she becomes world.
Without egg and without waiting.
The invisible moves.
Create.
