Joining the names,
a nameless melancholia crosses a borderland,
between dreams and reality.
The stone face,
some nothingness transcends the unhearing mind.
Tell me how much you know about yourself?
Moon shaped pleasures did not stir me,
The hours of a dark day moved in pink fog,
my heart was bruised in a fall.
My infinite failures saw the inversed truth.
Yellow was the rage, fire.
A perpetual leap from emptiness.
The flames were movements, towards void.
The thoughts were circling over the flames.
Green windows open, shut, open.
My timeless affair with my self starts.