My Struggle | Teaching English | British Council

Her lust is a mixture of desire and fright.
She declared to them all that night.
I'm ready to sell my soul.”
My savoir is not what she is used to be today;
She became a creature of blood and clay.
The star that guided her through her pilgrimage
Is falling as twinkling swords
And sending pulses which is more than words,
Telling the divine beauty to stand for the fight.
Now she can’t realize the significance
of her eternal beauty.
The toiled body wants to retreat,
While I’m as a candle in a deserted room seat
Drawing my dreams of salvation
on walls, windows and utilities of ritual feast
I can see my self in my tranquility as a deem
weeping, Dancing light between darkness and creativity,
or a burning mild struggling sight
That illuminates her paths to me
would the one who ignored the star guidance
be able to take by the candle's feat.