In the lands of Türkiye, where ancient whispers reside,
An astonishing discovery, a statue’s beauty wide,
Unearthed from the depths of time’s embrace,
A magnificent relic, a symbol of grace.

Carved 11,000 years ago, in the dawn of old,
A statue emerges, its tales untold,
Featuring a man with a symbolic phallus strong,
Leaving me in awe, in wonder, in song.

The craftsmanship exquisite, the details fine,
Each curve, each line, a testament divine,
To the hands that shaped this ancient art,
A reflection of a culture, a soul, a heart.

In Türkiye’s soil, the statue lay concealed,
A connection to the past, a mystery revealed,
The man and his phallus, symbolic and bold,
A story of fertility, of myths untold.

As I gaze upon this relic from a bygone age,
I feel the presence of history’s sage,
11,000 years of time’s relentless flow,
Captured in stone, in a majestic glow.

The divine essence lingers in the air,
As I stand in awe, in reverence, in care,
Of the ancient hands that crafted this art,
A symbol of beliefs close to the heart.

In Türkiye’s soil, a treasure unearthed,
A statue’s mystery, slowly dispersed,
Leaving me in awe of the divine’s grandeur,
In the presence of history’s enduring tenure.