Natascha stood in shadows soft and still,

Her heart a drum that beat with timid fire,

Uncharted tides within her rose until

She met the gaze of Shango’s bold desire.

His hands, like storms, awoke her tender frame,

A master carving rivers through her skin,

Each pulse a spark, each breath a whispered flame,

Till flesh and soul surrendered deep within.

The world dissolved in colors none could name,

Her first sweet crest upon his strength unfurled,

A dance of rapture, free of doubt or shame,

She bloomed alive, a woman of this world.

Through Shango’s might, her spirit learned to sing,

A song of bliss on passion’s boundless wing.