The sacred pain of love, which always reminds us of our human nature,
Which confirms life and living most of the times starts from us.
It is caused by us.
Is it the danger that attracts us?
Is it the lust inside the difficulty?
Who knows how our senses of love – playing, function in our consciousness..
The most elaborate and admirable in people is their mind and soul….
They both are playing with us the game of survival and dominance.
Love is the perfect alliance for this game.
Love can be a soldier but can be a general as well.
Love can be a hero and a trader.
Love can be everything. Love is everything.
Love can be nothing. Love is nothing.
We are puppets in a big chess stage.
We are black and white chess pieces on a chessboard.
Most of the times we ourselves move accordingly and sometimes we stay still…
How does this game end?
But because love is like a chess game,
if the opponents are of the same quality,
this game may last for a very long time…
or even it may never reach to an end…
Shall I cover myself with the mist and the morning’s fog?
Shall I comb my hair with that star which fell on my lap last night?
The one I kept it and hid it under my pillow?
Are you coming today?
When are you coming?
I don’t know how to cry..
I only know how to be in pain…
I only know how to laugh being in pain..
I know how to laugh and suffer at the same time…
Remember me when you cut the flowers of the garden.
Leave some of them outside my door and as soon as I wake up
I will knit a long scarf to wrap it around me so to think of you
Being close and hugging me…
All your smiles, are worn on each of my fingers as expensive jewels,
the most expensive ones in the whole world.
And you? What about you?
What did you do?
You made my bed with snakes and worms
and the dust of the earth and the timeless bitterness!
And you left Pandora’s box of misfortunes open,
inside our own bedroom –surely you tricked her too, to get it!
So my body suffered wounds and disasters lay in my eyes
And as soon as I woke up and you saw me like this…
with all the wounds and scars wide open bleeding,
you sent me to the sea to wash myself.
You made me a martyr.
I made you a demon.