Dust Was His Bed, Her Doorstep His Pillow by Ronit Undone Bergman

from the EP 997 Days To Wisdom (2023) Dust was his bed, Her doorstep his pillow Our holy man he had a vision – dream Towards his idol far away Waking up as ready as an athlete He started running as a breaking day At this time he still had no idea His life is noosed by one single hair Her mini waist was as thin as paper Her lips so tiny that even words can’t pass through Worshiping her was a natural progression Dust was his bed and her doorstep his pillow Our holy man was no longer holy But he also was no longer her slave Many many years have passed and twisted Hard into their tale They’d rather be in hell together Than in heaven by themselves Love is the very very very marrow of things But there can be no real love without real suffering Despair and mercy illusion and security Such things will often happen on the way of love