it pours out from my words, not from my eyes

this is a loneliness that has been granted to my world.

offended like Oliver Twist 

I look at life as absentmindedly as I keep silent

your truths were stark naked

but what clothes did I sew for you

it is slipping from my soul, not from my hands

I could not count the countless letters I burned inside me.

faint like Oblomov 

I get caught in the traps as much as much as I fall

you did not see

it did not work, it did not match your nights..

FOUR IN THE MORNING

my heart is hoarse, my eyes suddenly open

I have a prayer that wakes me up at four in the morning 

It is such a silent prayer 

only God hears

falling asleep in the place where my sentences, 

which I can not even put a period to, wander.

Who knows which word I gaze upon?

I wonder.

I am giving your name to the hardest rocks

and my most diverse feelings

some parts of me are screaming

as I lose my silence

just as much as your absence

I used to believe that my eyes were filled with happiness, but in reality, it was my perseverance that filled them, leading to the tranquility I experienced while leaning against a tree and waiting.