It is an invisible city. It was built as the beautiful residence of the gods. There is an amphitheater built so that we could behold our enchanting passions, the cult of our own existence, crossroads of rituals and cults where prosperity is worshiped as a religion. Here it is incense burning in the darkness of the forest like passionate eyes and a love letter that is so far that it can make a whole library. It reflects the intimacy of a blooming rose, half of the apple missing, the genuine power of the cedar tree, the deadly allure of the lily of the valley. It is a river of passion that flows through the city. The mature Cambodian oud penetrates her nostrils like a queen entering her castle while her officials ring the bells on her. Her essence is more valuable than gold. Welcome to Alexandria: the fairest siege in history.
