I wake up in the middle of the night once again. This recurring dream of a girl I once knew in this ‘Sea of Serendipity.’
The intoxicating pleasure of smelling her perfume, her sweet aroma of lavender and roses, her gentle touch as a pianist graces keys performing a composition for an audience of one, her breath like a tropical breeze, her voice melodic as a whisper in the wind, her body a sculpted work of art; a Michelangelo masterpiece.
‘The Enchanted One’ of which my eyes were too blinded by the dark to see. That wisdom wasted on its youth-succumbing to the hands of fate. Was it all just a ‘perfect illusion’ of dancing between the sheets.
The broken ‘Mirror of Illusionary Dreams’ staring back at me. Taunting me with that brown-eyed girl looking back at me. Seducing me with her charm and inviting me to step into the glass to the other side of the Veil.
That seductress, that barely naked girl could be the angel of death; holding the knife to cut in deep and feast upon my bleeding heart. I sacrifice my body and blood in my search for lustful pursuits. I bow down at the feet, worshiping ‘the goddess of the Enchanted One.’
My own epiphany came to me a little too late. I took the dive into the sea of broken glass and forsaken dreams.
“I only knew I loved her after I let her go.” She was the nearest thing to heaven on this earth I will ever see. Just a little slice of paradise; that pie in the sky. Now that “I let her go.”
There is nothing left inside except a void where love had been. A river of blood and honey flowing freely from the wound pierced through my side by that sacred sword. My halo of thorns, my torn flesh, my bare naked soul revealing scars from my sordid forsaken past.
Some things the innocent eyes of a young child should never see. Thrown into a world where the value of a life was placed upon her age and sexuality. The older foreigner men would bid a higher price on the virgins; in the tens of thousands in their local currency, while the slightly older girls whom have been deflowered fetched in the thousands if they still were attractive enough and able to learn new skills. The women 30 and older would be deemed too old and used goods; receiving roughly 1/8 the price of the others if they were able to perform household duties in lieu of sexual services.
This was the sordid world of my past reality; the only hope for escape to be rescued by an American businessman whom would, through the hand of marriage, be able to start a new life in New York City as an escort for the rich politicos amd dilpomats whom at least treated women with more respect than the Saudis.
-Mark Adam Publishing 2017
Video credit: Passenger ‘Let her go’
Dream, Inspire, Visualize, Expect (DIVE) Publishing 