The beauty of creation

Pulling him to her breast,
She realized what she feared was the newness.
The feeling that perhaps
This moment had never occurred before and so,
the burden of creating something completely new had been given to them:
these young reckless lovers.
Who knew nothing more than to give of themselves,
Hungry, not to conquer but to be conquered.
They reeked of passion,
blinding and burning.
But even in the midst of passion,
She found herself gasping and wondering if the burden was too heavy.
As she moulded her body alongside his,
would this be enough?
She realized what she feared was the newness.
The beauty of creation that lay in the sandy horizon
And the failure of never reaching it,
blanketed her naked statue.

Consequence of Humanity

What then is the price of innocence?
When color translates power
Where virginity is bought online
And bank notes speak the language of diplomacy fluently
What then is the price of freedom?
When rapes are carried out as favours
Where beheadings can be watched in the privacy of bedrooms
And oil barrels whisper tales of genocide
What then shall we tell our maker?
Shall it be the innocent blood spilt that will drown us?
Or will we each tell our own tale of evil and sacrifice alone?
But as the forgotten toss and turn beneath us.
And human shields of ignorance stand tall.
We will sit one day and ask
Has it all been worth it?