Myths of Stones

Far into these stones of silences soft in the smell of history from watery chaos to cosmic egg whose return to words I am waiting for? We are delivered by myths where lay our old fever of love. Time and the boat, victories and losses the rise and fall in the Nile water. There I may meet King Menes on a late summer night when centuries drift to hold a larger life This sleep is a book where I meet Colossi of Memnon in the silence and noise. My fears of losing receive no one. My unwarranted fulfilments of tomorrows are bare faces of lives connected somewhere before, lives disconnected without reasons. Now I stand among flurry desires in the gates of the ruined Mortuary temple. These ruins are my own like my faiths. How can I forget all I hold before I go for a long sleep?