Posture my dreams as you wish and then give life to the seasons and do not give credit to my love. I am writing my thoughts for my first love.
My inner voice climbing the walls of loneliness and my breath embroidering love. Of course, in my soul and emotions that I have kept as hidden as I am hidden, and while I was hastily loving and weaving dreams from smiles, I tended to lose again and again for the sake of my lost years, dear because I was granted my soul and it was not what I lived with regret, the race of my soul and the indispensable I fell in order to live with what it deserves. once on this road.
My chest?
Or is the presentation of a lost sarcophagus your destiny?
Maybe an instrument without a spear.
Oh, and that judgment within us that is hidden in the universe laden with cangs.
I am a pattern. What?
If it is an image, I have never inclined to somebody, but I inclined my existence because I came in full with my nothingness and I am leaving.
Divination is hidden before and the universe was the master of transcendence.
Isn't that mercy anyway?
Isn't that fire that the moon bends in the clusters and the wind of love?
My being plundered and that child and my pure side, and not that I obey like a rhyme hidden in the remainder of each line, but I fell into an annotation one by one with the order and the disorder in me and the enthusiasm and love that came from me.
Maybe I am a relative shadow in the eyes of people.
And sometimes I am a failing note: sometimes loaded with gamble, sometimes full of effervescence.
My burden and my hardship are reserved with God.
I am also the faithful slave of the holy soldier who is remembered by the singing mercy, the season hidden in me, and my pale pastime.
My life passed in the cellar of love, and while I was crying silently, I finally drowned and drifted into another cellar at my own age.
Love was my most precious value, but I could not predict life, after all, I fell in love with being without s / it, and sometimes I faded and sometimes glowed in the periphery of my heart, and as I got cold, my heart pulled myself and my soul into falaqa.
I did not feel sorry for myself from time immemorial, because pain and sorrow was my first step, and people chose attributes and I cried to the universe in order to be worthy of my smiling face.
It was a mild wind and the pain of my absence and perched in my cage, sometimes I miss migrating birds, whereas I was a native of love and loneliness and a slave.
Sometimes backbiting.
Of course, the apocalypse is hidden in them that sometimes people host me.
I was a thoroughbred victim and naive, and I opened my heart of purity and opened it, until my wound and pain passed over me and realized that I had surrendered to a wind: I was the wind itself.
I blew me inside.
Sometimes I kept silent outside me and whipped my soul, my wound grew as it grew and finally I came together, it was me first and the madman inside me, however, love was the toy of people, whereas I was overcome by the people I started to love my pains and I understood that my pain was what made me close to me and even more. It was very cruel, my dear.
His derman was hidden in Him because it was He who taught.
Not knowing that love is wisdom and blessing, I was struck once by the wind of love.
With my child mind, I understood that love was another dialect and not what people understand: on the contrary, love was the center of the universe.
I loved it as much as I could, but it was not enough.
As I valued my loved ones, my wound grew, but I did not even patch it, I did not even ask why, because love was hidden in me, and I was fed with my pain and pain, and I promised to hide in my heart, and my auspicious word, love was just as much a curse of the universe, after all, love has succumbed to me and I inclined to love more.
Presentation of the Lord.
It's also the migration of loneliness.
I took my revenge from myself and ran away from myself, even though I always knew myself close to myself.
Z / was a relentless journey, a trap that I had embarked on and I fell into, of course, I am after mercy and the complicated journey in me, after all, I was the only traveler on this road and what I was tested on is a huge truth.
The one who casts my soul.
In which voice you feel my inner voice dominates.
My braided hair and bangs, and my devotion, after all, I was tired of the mystery in me.
Absence.
Thank goodness in absence.
Thank God patience.
In patience, my love and my soul washed with water and my unyielding wickedness.
My color is white.
I was well versed in loneliness and pain.
Then I came to such a turn that:
Either I was far away from me or I was the one who would present me to me, with the consent of God of course.
My words smelled burning and the lodge in me had already been looted, but I had gotten my first and last shelter.
If it was a wind, I was blown away.
If it was a mourning I was defending.
If I was a sincere heart, I consoled myself until the end.
Whatever was ambiguous came to light at last, and I unraveled the cipher and the blind knot inside me.
Love was more than a syllable, and an annotation to a superhuman power and mercy itself.
However, I was just at the beginning of the road and at last he opened his arms, mercy on me and that huge downpour.
In secret.
In your word.
And in the embers.
My temple and mourning and indispensable.
It was to love more with the peace of reaching myself, and the only being that offers me this is the only being who deserves to be loved while he is the one who deserves to be loved, just as he taught me, since I managed to be the same person as I was born on the day I was born, I just fell silent and praised and here is the sun for me for the first time that day. He was born and not sinking.
I wrote a poem as a bonus;
Anamorphosis
Life is very similar to anamorphosis
Seems formless
Or in every respect
Giving another meaning
Anamorphosis that wants a correct angle
It is a controlled technique method
Its range stretches as wide as possible
Unlike life, anamorphosis
Cannot be perceived by sight
While asking for a special look
Si mgeye can turn into symbol
Close to the theory of relativity
Doesn't look exactly like him either
Anamorphosis, also used as coding
It is not completely coding.
Think of it like life, kind of like that
There's a little bit in everything
In favor of mystical esoteric hangout
So he doesn't give himself away
Everything is hidden in details for those who do not understand
Known for its anamorphosis detail
Right angle observation is essential for him.
By defining perspectives
Has become active anamorphosis
Good tool for craftsmen
Used in all areas of art
He is one of the pioneers of the art of hiding
Used in music in painting in poetry
Da Vinci was the first to demonstrate this method
In both his poems and paintings
Later he used it a lot
Anamorphosis is a measure beyond measure
It can also be called the illusion technique.
Man's life is a mirror to himself
When anamorphosis roller is called
Reflection comes to mind with a mirror
You hold the beveled mirror in the picture
It gives you the normal look
The statement to sit crooked and speak straight
Only this far could find its place
Of course you see the truth here
This is not a separate issue...
Lovely dear.......