Metazori is not a smile that I wish or even utter a car without a strap, or the season and the stops hidden in the sky and brides with a black veil hidden in the sky. Do I adore immortality, but I die more every time I love.
I wish people a lifetime of dealing with silence as much as I love them from the universe, but it is a journey that has long been yesterday that the storm hidden in the nature of silence is only a matter of time.
Maybe something strikes me out of my memories whenever a memory comes to my tongue and every time I remember it.
WHILE HIDDEN IN MOTHER'S Prayer - Poetry
While words are your bottom up in the lane of love
Your best man
A faint horizon, scowling
On the run of your involuntary age
The syllables of hope that will fill my eyes
Sky blue eyes of my mother
It is hidden in that oath that quenches my silence.
The wind of your mercy and love
Every notch scratches the day
Every prayer I roll into peace
It is the fate of the night that I stop to write
Stuck in the body of the poem
Of the pen that manages to get rid of the images
Endless prayer
After all I was swimming in the dream pit
It's a blessing that I breathe
Like the chastity I put on words
Your meaty life
Your heart is on the wheel
Voicing like a serenade
Where feelings reverence
How is the season of dust, arrogant
An enchanting pinch of sadness
Your life in its embracing temple
Hidden in every line that I hug
The sun rising to my believing existence
Never end it, my Lord.
From the quarry as the syllables roll
Your heart intends to open the pies without fading
Mourning like a poem
Coy like a flower
It's an essential turn
After the disappearance
The consolation hidden in me that comes to light.
It's like walls with stucco, and I never thought that my house, where I lived for eight years, will one day come and open its arms to strangers. Moreover, real estate agents who touted as "four walls."
While I have consulted people as much as I can consult with people for a lifetime and I still wait for counseling service, and the days I have offered, especially when I have been released like a traveling court, I have listened to what the outer world says and shaped it accordingly, while it is obvious that the child inside me does not listen to the words, but it is as clear as day I gave a one-foot penalty as if it was not enough on the walls of the white page, and also ordered him to put a pen in his hand and write poems.
In every sense, it's a lifetime how many pieces I divide into. Just like the numbers I divided, I divided my mind, hid the patches in my soul and filled the void in my heart with a pen, drank a jug of cold water on top of it and officially made me cold, and I opened a wing to a warm exploration with my temperamental touch like a cold.
Whatever or who is due. In fact, for me, since my own expiration date, I paint different openings every day, whenever I dive into the view inside me, let's forget the outer world and deal with the b / dying inside me. Whichever spiral of emotion it unscrews.
I want to feel cold Mom - Poetry
It ended in the early hours of the morning, our laughter,
As a cold boy
We were very cold
Burning in a tin can
Everything depends on the temperature of two woods,
Everything was a yellow hot story,
Sometimes it's a lie
Get filled up sometimes.
Of a father whose fingertips are yellowed from tobacco,
I have hands in my mind now,
I miss the quickest mornings insanely,
Like the cursing of a jester boy
I want to feel cold mom
Feeling Cold, Feeling Cold.
The long corridor of the house where I take short breaks and pace every time I sit at a table, which is why I have witnessed since my childhood. Of course, when I was a student, I had to go back and forth how many thousands of times I had to go back and forth with textbooks and notes in that corridor, even when I was indebted to my beloved primary school teacher by pasting my lecture notes on the wall without feeling lazy.
Of course, the imposition of the rote learning system in this sense is that I had a lot of trouble when I started verbally, as well as I had a lot of trouble with my memorization. Of course, all my achievements and diplomas were left in the past or I would still be in a search as of the moment, I do not know.
In this sense, it never helped me to shut myself up, so I have to be busy with things, and since I knew myself.
The epidemic in my soul sometimes gets so crazy that I:
My desire to understand and what I divide a lifetime into several parts in order to explain it, and that I have made use of different disciplines and hold inside of me, even the mirror is not enough.
In fact, beyond being a helpless servant consisting of a single speck, my turning into ashes may have encouraged me to be reborn, therefore I go back and forth with that pilgrim's heart and the pain of eternity.
I resisted as much as I resisted. But the explosion caused by me giving up after a point and pushing everything with the back of my hand at once.
Of course, I did not put my best back on whatever the subject was before, but there were not many people that I moved away with an impulsive decision, not because I had no choice but to destroy myself, if I continued, what I took into the continuation never came back and I never had a stable life. Of course, the only benefit of messing up everything in my face in terms of profession was maybe the brainstorm that it created in me, whatever the knowledge and disappointment I have thrown, it has necessarily left me in the middle, it is actually mine that leaves me halfway so every abandonment leaves me in the wounds that never heal. led.
