No land accepted me, but I worshiped the land

A child with his heart in his mouth

Like I'm taking the pen in my hand

Incompetent, inexperienced and unlikely

I'm all alone every time.

I chewed the flowers, it wasn't enough, I scrambled my joys with the dust left behind, I accumulated loneliness and tile-colored pains every time, then I went to the roof of love and I got lost from that day to this day.

The time I lost.

Every place I've been lost.

The meaning of being human is hidden in a distorted order, the pulse of innocence is still beating, and here I am commenting on the unknown.

What remains of a well-meaning and lovely girl

Swinging nonstop on empty swings

I'm sorry, she says,

I can't write a poem of happiness after this time...

You have a handkerchief made of silk, let my hands be empty.

It is obvious that the sun forgot to rise again, I covered the flowerpot with a blue cloth, but I am the daughter of colds, actually I put a satin quilt on me and I know that I am not seen.

There are no happy smiles in my eyes, this poem will not come out this morning, obviously, this poem will not come out into the night, and the couplets that I love with their ignorant courage will not hold on to sewing again.

I set my eyes on the sky again.

I am so lonely, God, maybe this loneliness is a gift to me from my family tree and my genes.

Which poet was the one who asked if your father was dead?

My father died once and I am still a thousand times in deprivation and poverty. Since fatherlessness made me live and since I buried my plane tree, no land has accepted me, but I worshiped the land since I came to the land and I will go.

I know that life gives me another chance, just as I have not once questioned whether I am loved so much by every creature I love because of the Creator, while the Creator had brought me back from the dead dozens of times before.

On my slumped shoulders.

Do not be deceived by my collapsed knees and verses.

Even though I am considered depressed, I am still up from time to time and thousands of obstacles waiting to be overcome are hidden inside and outside of me.

In your eyes, I am a wind that blows and loves nature.

Every new day and every fugitive feeling that destroys, let them know that I am the sacrifice of love and loneliness.

No one I questioned.

Wherever I was questioned by everyone…

I wish to fade.

The apple I can't peel.

My heart they robbed and my dreams stolen.

However, it is my iceberg hidden in the deep freezer.

I am both a mournful and warm rose and the ice itself.

While my heart is frozen, my heart is locked up, and even though I am excommunicated at work, I still rejoice like a child from love and society. Even though I think about love and people, it doesn't help and the love inside me never will, but be happy while knitting your hair with my mourning.

My nature was wasted and his life was wasted.

What I've been through that I sometimes tell like a joke.

Sometimes I still know the demons and the regulars who cause strife, and I'm looking for good people, that's why I didn't wither, the fire in me will not go out easily, and here is the fire in me, and here is the guarantee that I will write new poems again, this is the wind and escape inside me.

Those who cause discord are not in my field of interest.

Even though I don't get attention, I love people improvisation, but now even if I just fall from afar and far away, my life is still hidden inside me. My joy of living and yes, even though I can't reflect this directly, I decipher it when I write, and sometimes I break the codes and taboos and I prepare my coffin because I am without my books and poems. I cannot migrate from this world.

It is quite a long road, and I have to go and see and figure out before I die, so I will write and love until my last breath, of course I will be on the key, it's like an emergency call/pain when I don't hear the echo of my heart, my hands and feet are cut off.

They say they are hungry.

My head is constantly spinning.

Torturing my body is an inheritance from my childhood, and if possible, I would not eat a single bite for 365 days, but see that the world swallows you in one bite, and I drink a glass of water on top of it, and sometimes the waves of the water I drink hit the shore of my stomach and I turn into a gigantic ocean.

I'm the only one on my lane, maybe it's the one I feed on my pain, maybe the one who makes me love me as much as makes me an enemy.

Is there really as much as I love?

Am i happy?

Surely, he who laughs last laughs best.

Of course, every last rose that blooms will not fade forever, so I come and go many times in love at every stage of my rose identity, which I know is difficult, if the same road is the same way, the aim is to run to my Lord before reaching myself.

At first, while walking softly and slowly, I am busy remembering Him uninterruptedly, and every time I give my inner voice to a busy person, I do not only write poetry, but I also realize the possibility of forming thousands of sentences, and here I blend life with a poetic touch on a poetic axis, and of course I praise it.

Since it is laid before my eyes, the heart will soon become winged, the last remaining birds in the world to be in silence, and I know when I gathered a plate and a comb and started to leave, I know of course that I would be buried in silence, after all, I lived without a sound for a lifetime, while I love so silently, let me go on my last journey silently and in love.