Little maiden why dos’t though tary?…
Little maiden do not be wary…
If thou must rest…
To relinquish thy fear…
From within thy chest…
Come hither now…
And linger ‘neath…
The old tree’s bough…
Long ago in lands of golden sand…
Brahma turned to Saraswati…
And gently kissed her inked hand…
She stood at the bow….
Eyes to the sea…
Her callous heart…
As frigid as could be.
Cold and obstructed…
The mephitic aroma…
Of her emotional melanoma…
Far flung savageries had wrought…
The Little Maiden’s spirit…
Way more than it had ought…
Deepest regions walked she there…
Little Maiden through the air…
Ventured far from the path…
Never a whisper…
Never a laugh…
Afraid she was.
Silent cool waters…
Dancing upon her skin.
Silent cool waters…
Ushering dreams within.
