Why do these eyes,
These eyes of yours
who know extremely
well to Send countless
of Burning arrows to
my melted heart,
failed to see how much
I am  blind from love
about you,I can see
only things which
I can not hear from you.
You filling my
mental archive sells
with Yellowed piles
of tattered feeling ,
put them together
In 'multi-seasonal'
fields of dancing stars
full with Radiators,
Signs of light and purity.
You gaping in me
miss wounds, covering
them with Three layered,
clean and soft with love fullness and delighted youthfulness
spirit.
It's about time
to to withdraw finally
with disposable women  
bound with hollow words,  
washed with anemic Sounds
as they were chimes of
missing clapper glass.
We are both
quietness characters.
We are galloping
of wild horses.  


The break water's Rocks.


We are a love song.
A symphony of words.